The Vampire Queen (Rewrite)
by ol-11jrw
Summary: After Klaus kills her when learning of her betrayal, Rebekah is reborn as the eldest daughter and heir of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. How will the presence of a Mikaelson affect the great Game, especially after she is crowned the Queen in the North. (REWRITE)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: After Klaus kills her after learning of her betrayal, Rebekah is reborn as the eldest daughter and heir of Lord Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. How will an Originals presence affect the game of thrones especially after she is crowned the Queen in the North. (Rewrite)**

 **Rebekah POV New Orleans**

"Now I'm the one who decides who lives and who dies" Rebekah said holding the White Oak stake Elijah had dropped after Klaus stabbed him with Tunde's blade. And at that moment she felt a great deal of guilt for her brother. It was because of her that Mikael had driven Elijah from his home and despite knowing how angry he was at her he still protected her and now he was going through agony because of her. "I'm taking out that blade." Rebekah stated pointing the stake in her brothers face.

"You'll have to kill me first," Klaus snapped at her "and now you have the means to do it, why not finish what you started a century ago?"

"I did not want you dead, but after what you have done to Elijah merely for defending me. I want you dead now, so move before I do decide to kill you." She said threatening him. Rebekah didn't want to kill Niklaus but if he stood between her and Elijah then she would do what was necessary.

"You against me? It's hardly a fair fight, is it?" Klaus asked with arrogance dripping in his every word, not that he was necessarily wrong. "I mean, perhaps, if Marcel were here you'd stand a chance but I expect he's already found another girl, no doubt younger and prettier."

"Perhaps it's your precious Camille," She replied not giving the response she knew the bastard desired. "She's certainly younger then me and very pretty. She also despises you much like another young attractive blonde you were obsessed with. What was her name? Oh I remember, Caroline Forbes" and she felt a great deal of pleasure when she heard Klaus growl in anger at her words. Not surprising since Klaus was little more than a spoilt child not used to not getting what he wants.

"So you admit that you want me dead?" Klaus asked her strangely calm, but she knew it was only a matter of minutes before her brother's explosive temper tantrum happened.

"Yes." Rebekah answered truthfully, they were past the point of lies and half truths.

"After everything I've done to keep our family safe?" Klaus snapped and Rebekah noticed the signs of her brother's temper rising.

"After everything _you_ have done?" she snapped, feeling her temper rising "You seem to be forgetting that Finn and Kol have been deed for nearly a year. And what was it you said when Finn died _'he was a love struck fool in life, he's better off in death'_ the rest of us may have been angry at Finn but we still mourned him and while you mourned Kol you didn't take revenge, in fact you even promised Caroline that there wouldn't be any retaliation. And let's not forget that it as you who killed our mother causing our father to spend a thousand years hunting us. And it was you who lead Henrik into the woods on a full moon despite knowing the dangers, you as good as murdered our youngest brother yourself." She said shouting at her brother.

It was her comment about Henrik that finally made Klaus' infamous temper snap, causing him to lunge at her. He punched her in the gut, sending her flying through the wall of one of the many tombs in the cemetery. She rushed at him with the stake in her hand to kill him but he grabbed her wrist in one hand and used his other hand to grab the back of her neck pulling her forward as he then bit into her neck, causing her to scream as she felt his venom enter her system. But before Klaus could do anything else she kicked between his legs and as he grunted in pain and let go of her she punched in the face as hard as she could causing him to go flying several meters. Instead of following Klaus though, she rushed over to Elijah and punched her hand into his stomach, causing him to scream as she pulled the dagger out of him. However her helping Elijah cost her as Klaus forced her to a nearby wall where she tried to stake but Klaus's hybrid strength and the fact his venom was weakening her easily allowed him to catch her blow and twist her wrist backwards and then drive the stake into her heart, but at the same time she drove Tunde's blade into Klaus stomach relishing in his screams of pain before she felt her strength leave and she closed her eyes for the last time.

 **-TVQ-**

 **Catelyn POV Westeros, Riverrun**

"AHHH." Catelyn Stark formerly of House Tully screamed in pain as she was in the middle of giving birth to her and her husband Ned Stark's first child. She didn't know her husband well, in fact she wasn't even meant to marry him but his brother Brandon who had been killed by the mad king and Ned had been forced to marry her in his brother's place and to also gain her father's support in the rebellion against Aerys Targaryen. She gave another scream of pain ignoring the maester saying to give one more push and when she did she felt a great sense of relief as she felt her child leave her.

"It's a girl my lady." The maester told her sounding very unnerved for a reason she couldn't tell or care really, as she was filled with joy "Rebekah" she muttered that would be her name. She and Ned had been exchanging letters and had decided to name the child Robb if it was a boy and Rebekah if it was a girl.

"Give her to me," she commanded the maester and she noticed how reluctant the maester looked at that.

"My lady, she has sign of evil in her." The maester protested, clearly reluctant to give her, her child, which worried the new mother greatly.

"Give her to me." Catelyn repeated more firmly and the maester reluctantly did so and she saw a small patch of dark brown, possibly even black hair on her daughter's head, _'She clearly follows her father,'_ Catelyn thought though she didn't understand what the maester was so scared about, her daughter didn't appear to be a dwarf, or have any deformities. But it was when her daughter opened her eyes that she saw the reason, the irises were completely red and the area of the eye that was meant to be white was black (vampire eyes). Half a minute later Catelyn was given another massive shock when she literally saw her daughter's eyes change colour from black and red to white with Tully blue. _'Must have been a trick of the light,'_ she thought.

"Rebekah Stark first born child of Eddard Stark the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North" she muttered proudly as she gazed into her daughters eyes.

 **\- line break -**

 **Eddard POV Winterfell (10 years later.)**

Eddard Stark, commonly called Ned, watched with a mix of a smile and a frown as he watched his eldest daughter Rebekah in the training yard of Winterfell with a practice sword. A large part of him was proud of the fact that his daughter knew how to defend herself and the fact that despite being only ten she clearly had the signs of becoming very proficient with a blade. Another, larger part of Ned worried for his daughter, day by day she became more like his sister Lyanna and more then once he feared that Rebekah would meet the same bitter end.

He had only recently returned to Winterfell, Rebekah had begged him for a tour of the North, especially the holdfasts of his bannermen and he hadn't been able to deny her. Why Rebekah had been so determined to travel the North Ned didn't know but in the end it benefited him greatly as it showed the Northern Lords that the Stark's hadn't forgotten them. Ned loved his father, but Rickard Stark had been a fool and he had angered many of their bannerman with his 'southern' ambitions. He had also learnt from the clearly forced politeness of both the Ryswells and Dustins that both families didn't hold him in high esteem, and Ned resolved to keep an eye on both Barrowton and the Rills.

"I still don't like her learning how to fight." His wife's voice filled his ears as she approached him. Though their marriage had a rough start the two of them had grown to love and cherish each other.

"Neither do I," Ned replied with a small chuckle. They had both tried to stop her from learning how to fight but their daughter was as stubborn as an ox, and after two months of arguing they had given up and let Rebekah learn how to fight, neither of them expecting her to not only stick with it but to also be rather skilled. "Do you remember what she said when she first went into the training yard holding a practice sword?" He asked Catelyn.

"Yes," Catelyn answered with a smile on her face "'If I want to wield a blade then I shall wield a blade' I believe it was." The two of them laughed quietly as they remembered the incident, it was certainly something to remember.

"Lord Stark," an urgent voice caught both their attentions. Turning around they saw maester Luwin heading towards them, moving as fast as he could with his age and maester chain. "There was a raven from Kings Landing." Luwin answered their questioning looks causing concern to fill Ned. While he used to trade letters with both Robert and Jon Arryn they had become fewer and fewer over the years and he hadn't traded a single letter with either of them in nearly a year, that along caught Ned's attention. Taking the letter and breaking the Kings seal he read over the scroll, shock and fear filling him.

 _Ned, it's been a long time since we last wrote and I wish it was under better circumstances,_

 _That bastard Balon Greyjoy has declared himself King of the Iron Islands and has started a damn rebellion. His wretched brothers have already attacked Lannisport and destroyed the Lannister fleet. Normally I'd be pleased to see those yellow haired shits put in their place but with their fleet destroyed I can no longer match the Iron Fleet on my own. I hate to ask this of you Ned, I really do, but I beg of you. Call the banners and help me defeat these blasted squids._

 _Sincerely Robert Baratheon, first of my name, titles, titles, etc._

"Ned, what is it?" Cat asked, noticing the look on her husbands face which truly worried her.

"War, maester Luwin call the banners." Ned ordered. He didn't want to go to war but he would do his duty and help his friend.

"Are you sure my lord?" The maester questioned.

"Indeed, and make sure that the ravens reach both Barrowton and the Rills." If his fears about both the Ryswells and the Dustins proved true then the war created the perfect opportunity to weaken the forces of both those houses. Ned may not understand politics but he understand war, even though he didn't like it.

 **\- line break -**

 **Rebekah POV**

Rebekah watched on top of the battlements of Winterfell as her father lead a Northern host of fifteen thousand men strong down into the South to stop the Iron Born rebellion. Though she didn't let her fear show, Rebekah was terrified for her father, after all Eddard Stark was a better father to her then Mikael had ever been.

Despite searching through all the books in Winterfell's library she hadn't been able to find any reason to explain how she was alive and well, instead of being trapped on the other side, doomed to forever watch those she had left behind. Rebekah had found several maps of both Westeros and Essos and neither of them matched the size and shape of any continent on Earth, which lead her to believe that she very well lived in another world. Rebekah had accepted that it was unlikely she would ever return to her old world and she had moved on, not really surprising since by the time she died, the only person in her old world that truly loved and cared for her was her brother Elijah.

With the Northern army no longer in her sight Rebekah left the battlements of Winterfell and headed straight to her chambers, she had a lot of work to do and she didn't want to risk someone going into her chambers and accidentally finding all her notes and plans and plots.

Making sure she wasn't followed, there was an annoyingly large number of spies in Winterfell, she went straight to her chambers, making sure to lock the door and close the curtains of her window, making sure that no one would enter, especially not that bloody Septa Mordane, who more then once Rebekah was tempted to murder. Her room was rather plain with only a bed, a mirror, a wardrobe and a desk in it, but her desk was covered in parchments and ancient tomes from ages past.

Stepping in front of her mirror Rebekah couldn't help but glaze at her reflection. It was odd to spend a thousand years with one face and now she had another. Oh her features were certainly similar, only sharper instead of softer and her eyes were the same colour blue that they were in her last life, and she was fairly sure that her height was the same as it was when she was ten in her last life. The biggest difference was her hair, instead of luscious blonde it was now dark black, though that was probably a good thing. If Rebekah still had blonde hair it would probably cause people to question her legitimacy as a Stark since neither of her parents were blonde.

Concentrating Rebekah forced her vampire face to show, letting out a groan of pain as she felt fangs descend out of her gums and her eyes change to red and black as veins appeared under her eyes. Rebekah didn't know why but it was incredibly difficult, and even a little painful to change into her vampire face, it almost felt like something was blocking her, but at least she didn't have to worry about bloodlust. Rebekah didn't require blood and the only time she even felt the bloodlust was when she was completely exhausted. But that also meant hat her compulsion was weakened to the point that every other person could resist it. Her strength and speed was also nothing compared to what it had been in her last life but at least she was a lot stronger then what a normal ten year old girl would be.

Tearing her eyes away from her reflection Rebekah took a seat at her desk, compiling the list of parchments and reports as her mind wandered. Her journey around the North had multiple purposes, all of which was successful. The first job had been finding out which lords were loyal to her father and which weren't. Most were exceptionally loyal to her father to the point if he asked them to cut off their own hand, most would simply ask which hand. There were some exceptions but that was to be expected.

The second aim was placing eyes and ears in each of the Northern holdfasts, her father was a smart man but he had a complete lack of informants that left him blind to the world. Living a thousand years in her last life had made Rebekah more then slightly paranoid and she wanted to keep an eye on the Northern lords.

The third, and quite possibly the most important was confirming her grandfather's reports. While many regarded Rickard Stark as a fool, Rebekah's findings indicated that he was instead a man who simply wished for the North to reach its full potential. When she was eight she had found a book that had belonged to her grandfather, that also indicated that the North was filled to the bring with iron ore, and other rare metals that could be mined. She had showed the book to her father and he had told her that he was already aware about the iron ore, but most of it was located on the western side of the North which lacked an official harbour to mine and export the metals. Her father had also informed her of several other facts that prevented mining the ore, mainly a lack of funds.

But the main hindrance was the Iron Born. Many of her ancestors had attempted to build a harbour on the western side of the North but every time it was tried the Iron Born always attacked and destroyed the foundations. Hopefully her father and King Robert would put down the Iron Born in a permanent manner that prevented them from interfering.

But Rebekah had also been making plans to ensure that a new harbour not only wouldn't cause the Manderly's to lose any business, as they were some of her family's most loyal and powerful bannerman, not to mention the richest house in the North, but to also ensure that the Stark's would remain the most powerful family in the North.

 **\- line break -**

 **Eddard POV Winterfell (1 year later)**

Eddard rode through the gates of Winterfell, glad to finally be home. The war against the Greyjoy's had been very different from the war against the Targaryen's, but no less brutal and dangerous. Hopefully that would be the last time he ever marched off to war, but he didn't have any high hopes.

When he reached the courtyard of Winterfell he saw everyone including his family anxiously awaiting his arrival. Jumping off his horse he marched straight to his wife, pulling her into a hug before she even had a chance to say hello. "Oh Ned." She muttered giving him a kiss.

"It's good to see you again Cat," He told her, giving his wife another kiss. Braking the embrace Ned turned towards his children. "Hello Reb- oomph." He muttered as his daughter rushed into his arms, successfully forcing the air out of his lungs.

"I knew you'd be back." His daughter muttered into his stomach.

"Of course I would be back," he told her as he ruffled his hair. When his daughter let go of him he hugged and greeted the rest of his children, including Jon. Once he had greeted his family and his friends Ned headed to his solar, the war may be over but that didn't mean his duty as Lord of Winterfell was over. Plus he had been gone for nearly a year and there was a lot that Ned needed to catch up.

After roughly an hour of looking though reports of the harvest, appeals from the Night's Watch and requests from the Northern lords there was a knock at his door, surprising him. "Who is it?" He asked.

"It's your daughter Rebekah, Lord Stark." The guard standing outside his door informed him.

"Let her in." He ordered, wondering why his daughter would come to visit him. A second later his daughter came in, holding what appeared to be dozens of pieces of parchment in her hands while she herself actually appeared surprisingly nervous, something that was very unusual about Rebekah. "Rebekah, what can I do for you?" Ned asked doubting that his daughter was here for a mere visit.

"I have a request father for another harbour to be built on in the North, this one on the Western side." His daughter told him, looking straight into his eyes to appear as serious as she possibly could. "A harbour on the Western side of the North would promote more trade with the Riverlands, Westerlands, Reach and even Dorne, which is currently non existent due to the length of time it takes for ships from these three regions to reach White Harbour."

Though Ned didn't show it he was shocked about the conversation Rebekah had brought up. He had always known that Rebekah was far smarter and much more mature then her young age would expect but he really didn't expect this conversation. "And where would this harbour be located?" Ned asked curious about how much thought his daughter had put in this plan of hers.

"Preferably the the Stony Shore or Sea Dragon Point," his daughter suggested. "But Cape Kraken and the Rills would also be suitable."

"And what of the Manderly's?" Ned questioned his daughter. The Manderly's were some of their family's most loyal bannermen and the creation of another port would cause them to lose a lot of business. "While the North doesn't have much trade with either the Westerlands or the Reach, we do have some. A new port would cause them to lose out a good deal of trade and business."

But again his daughter surprised him with a response. "While they would lose out on trade with Westeros, it's absence would give Lord Manderly the poorest unity to open more trade links with Westeros. And if need be, Bran is the same age as Lord Manderly's granddaughter Wylla. I'm sure the chance to marry his granddaughter to a Stark would be more then enough to appease him."

"Also since that snot nosed prat-" Rebekah began.

"Theon." He corrected. Rebekah and Theon had not gotten off well, not really surprising since Theon had an admittedly repulsive personality and Rebekah didn't have the patience to put up with Theon.

"Is our hostage," Rebekah continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "We don't need top worry about Balon Greyjoy sending raiders into the North and disrupting the constructions. Also, it has defensive purposes." Rebekah finished mysteriously.

"What do you mean by defensive purposes?" Ned asked when his daughter didn't immediately explain. Instead of explaining what she meant Rebekah instead gave him one of the many pieces of parchment that she had brought in with her. Reading and re-reading over the parchment Ned felt shock and rage unlike anything he had ever felt in years, though he forced his anger back as he questioned his daughter. "Are you certain of this?"

"Yes. It certainly explains how the Iron Islands, which are nothing more then barren rocks, some how possess the largest fleet in Westeros. They are using lumber and wood from the North. All the keeps on the Western side of the North are spread out, not to mention they aren't the most powerful houses in the North. It's not to much of a stretch to imagine the Iron Born be able to slip into the North unnoticed, cut down a few trees and then return to the Iron Islands." Rebekah finished her rant with a deep breath, trying to contain the anger she felt for the Iron Born, which were in her opinion nothing but skim that should be put down.

Despite the anger that Ned was feeling he couldn't help but be very impressed by the plans that his daughter had made, but there was one glaring problem in it all. "And how will this be payed for?" He asked to which his daughter cringed, clearly it was something she had thought of but also struggled with when finding a solution.

"That's the problem, such a thing runs the risk of bankrupting the North, which is why I believe the best solution would be to borrow the money."

"From who?" He asked, dreading the answer. There were only two families in Westeros that possessed that kind of money and Ned had no intention of becoming in either the Lannisters or the Tyrells debt.

"The Iron Bank of Bravos. While their interest payments are high they can provide loans almost immediately, and as long as we begin repayment within a certain number of years they shouldn't cause us any problems."

With everything his daughter knew, Ned really wasn't surprised that she knew about the Iron Bank of Bravos. He knew they were dangerous but they were certainly preferable to any other option. Ned would honestly rather bankrupt the North then end up in Tywin Lannister's pocket, and while he didn't actively dislike the Tyrells, Ned distrusted them due to their ambitious nature, as well as Mace Tyrell's obsession with making his daughter queen, which was well known even in the North.

"Very well Rebekah," Ned told his daughter, "We'll try this plan of yours."

 **End of chapter 1 rewrite of The Vampire Queen. Please review.**

 **The ages of Rebekah and her siblings in this chapter, even though they're not present.**

 **Rebekah= 11**

 **Jon= 11**

 **Sansa= 8**

 **Bran= 6**

 **Arya= 5**

 **Rickon= 1**

 **Like in my previous version there is no Robb, not because I don't like him but it just makes it easier to explain why Rebekah is the heir. Also in case anyone is wondering Rebekah isn't the heir of Winterfell yet.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The winner is JON/ REBEKAH pairing however I really want to see the North gain it's independence so I've decided to do two versions of this story, one where Rebekah and Jon will marry and one where they won't. This means that it will probably take longer to update each story, and make them harder to right individually but I like the challenge.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Ned POV Braavos**

Ned waited for the people he would be meeting with to appear as he stood in the headquarters of the Iron Bank, waiting for his meeting. He was going through everything he knew about the Iron Bank in his mind but he honestly didn't know much about them. Ned never had any dealings with the Iron Bank before and therefore only knew them by reputation.

The door opened and three staff members entered and took their seats. When they motioned for him to Ned took a seat opposite them. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me my lords." He said to them.

"We are not lords, Lord Stark." The centre man spoke in a neutral voice.

"A term of respect Ser." Ned replied before getting straight to the point. "I would like to request a loan from the Iron Bank in order to build a harbour on the western side of the North."

"Why are you so sure that this would be a profitable venture for us?" The man sitting on the left asked him.

In response to the question he placed several parchments on the table that were his father's and daughter's reports to the North. "The North if filled with precious metals that can be mined and exported but we have always lacked a harbour to export it, as well as the funds to properly mine it."

"If this is true then why has the North never built a harbour on the western side before?" One of the men questioned suspiciously.

"The Iron Born are one of the major reasons, they always attack every attempts to build a harbour on the western side. But not only have they suffered major loses during their failed rebellion, but I also have Balon Greyjoy's last son as my hostage." He answered them.

"We have already began investing in Westeros," the man on the right said, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. "The Iron Throne is already in dept to us but they have yet to start paying back their debt, how do we know that the North will repay their debt?"

"The crown is in debt?" Ned asked in shock. From several conversations with the Jon Arryn during the Greyjoy rebellion he knew the crown was having some financial difficulties but he hadn't thought that the throne was in actual debt.

"Five hundred thousand gold dragons to house Lannister, two hundred thousand to house Tyrell, and three hundred thousand to the Iron bank." The same banker informed Ned to his dread. "So tell us Lord Stark, how do we know that the North would pay us our debt?"

Ned considered his answer for a few moments before answering. "'The Iron Bank will have it's due' isn't that the saying? If I don't repay the loans then I know the bank would be more then willing to start a war to get your gold back, and a war is the last thing that I want. And that's assuming that you actually start a war, I'm aware that the faceless men work for the Iron Bank." He told them which caused all three bankers to smile.

After several hours of haggling as well as informing as the rest of his daughter's plans to enrich the North they agreed on the size of the loan. The North would borrow 700,000 gold dragons from the bank with a ten percent interest rate and as long as the North began repaying its debt within ten years then the interest rate would remain the same.

 **\- line break -**

 **Roose Bolton POV The Dreadfort**

Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, sat in his solar looking at the parchment in his hand that bared the crest and signature of his liege Lord. The message honestly unnerved him, and not for the best reason. Eddard Stark, while not suspicious of him, was suspicious of his allies and it was clear to anyone with half a brain that the man was planning something, though what Roose didn't have the faintest idea. He read over the Raven sent to him, and presumably every other Lord in the North.

 _To all the Lords, houses and tribes of the North,_

 _This is a summons to Winterfell on the night of the new moon to discuss the future of the North. Any Lord who refuses this summon will be considered a traitor to the North and will be punished for it._

 _Signed Eddard Stark_

 _Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North._

Roose knew he had no choice but to go to Winterfell, to not would draw suspicion onto him and make many question his loyalties. It was with that thought that he bag an the journey to Winterfell.

Roose was one of the last to arrive and when he headed towards the great hall of Winterfell where the meeting was taking place he was slightly surprised by how full the great hall was with Northerners. Manderly, Mormont, Umber, Karstark, the entire North had shown up. Even Barbrey Dustin, the sister of his late wife, had shown up, her hatred of Ned Stark was not enough to let herself be branded as a traitor. Even the lords of Skagos had shown up, something that truly amazed Roose as they were little better then wildlings and none in the North wanted anything to do with them, and vise versa.

Eddard Stark arrived a second later, with his daughter with him of all people. "My Lords, please be seated." As one all the lords sat down at the long table that was nearly the width of the great hall, with Stark sitting at the head of the table. His daughter however didn't take a seat, instead she walked over to the back of the hall and simply observed them.

"The reason I have gathered you all here is to inform you of my plan for the North," Eddard began, gathering the interest of those gathered. "Bring it in." He ordered the Stark guards standing at the entrance to the great hall. A minute later the guards returned, each carrying a large chest that they carried towards the end of the table. Placing the chests on the table the guards proceeded to open them, revealing that they were filled to brim with gold.

Roose contained his surprise better then most of the lords, many of whom gasped in shock and started cheering but he was wondering where Stark had gotten all this gold from. The Starks may be the richest house in the North but they weren't that rich.

"With this wealth we shall improve our holdfasts and repair our lands. I also wish to build a second harbour on the Stony Shore to further export our resources." Stark exclaimed to the shock of the lords. Roose glanced at Wyman Manderly who looked completely shocked, and even a little angry, something that pleased Roose. If played it right he could turn the Manderlys into his allies and Starks enemies. It was then that he noticed that Stark's daughter Rebekah was watching him with thinly veiled contempt.

"I understand that this would cost you some business Lord Wyman," Eddard addressed the Lord of White Harbour "Which is why I'll be giving a large portion of the gold to you, so not only can you create new trade links with Essos but so White Harbour can build its own fleet. I would also wish to betroth my son Bran with your granddaughter Wylla."

 _'Smart, if the Manderlys make a fuss now they'll lose face in front of the Northern lords and Wyman would lose his chance of marry his granddaughter to the air of Winterfell,'_ Roose observed. Stark had clearly thought this meeting through.

"I would be honoured my lord." Lord Manderly spoke with his previous anger gone completely.

Stark smiled at his bannermen before turning towards him. Roose could tell that whatever Stark was going to say he was doing so reluctantly. "Lord Bolton, our families have been enemies in the past, but that is the past." Stark began, gathering the interests of everyone in the hall. "That is why I wish to arrange a betrothal between your son and heir Domeric and my daughter Sansa."

The silence in the hall was unbelievable in that moment, you could even hear a pin drop. Even Roose himself was shocked silent though he hid it better then the rest of the buffoons, the Greatjon was openly gaping. "I would be honoured my lord." Roose replied to his liege Lord in his unusual quiet voice. He would have preferred it if his son was instead married top Stark's eldest daughter instead of his second daughter but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Stark nodded before turning to address all the Northern lords and for some reason Roose couldn't help but feel like this would be the biggest revelation yet. "Due to her involvement and planning of the the new harbour, I Eddard Stark have decided to name my eldest daughter Rebekah the heir of Winterfell."

Again the entire hall was shocked silent by Ned Stark, even the man's daughter's calm and suspicious facade was broken as she stared at her father in shock, clearly not expecting that outcome. It was in that moment that Roose Bolton decided that Stark simply loved to create chaos.

 **\- line break -**

 **Rebekah POV Stony Shore**

Rebekah smiled as she helped with the construction, feeling an great sense of pride as slowly but surely a fledging town and even a small keep was being raised. Rebekah knew that this was her test, succeed and she would be accepted as the heir of Winterfell, fail and she would never rule the North.

Rebekah wanted to curse her father during that meeting, she had no idea what her father had been planning and she had gaped like a fool along with the rest of the Northern lords, certainly not the best first impressive she could have made. But in the end she couldn't deny that she was happy about what had happened. The Starks had ruled the North for eight thousand years, a fact that had honestly amazed Rebekah when she had first learnt it, but if there had ever been a queen in the North they had been forgotten by history. Rebekah didn't want to be forgotten.

"Lady Stark." A voice she immediately recognised as Jory, the leader of the guards that her father had sent with her from Winterfell. "Our scouts have reported five longships headed our way. Though they bare no signal it's clear that they are Iron Born." He informed her.

Everyone turned to look at her, waiting to see what she would do, Rebekah vowed that she would not disappoint them. "Have the men prepared for their battle positions Jory." Rebekah ordered him, an attack by the iron born was something that Rebekah knew would happen sooner rather then later and she had prepared for it.

 **\- line break -**

 **Balon Greyjoy POV Pyke**

Balon waited impatiently for the raiders to finally return. The mission he had given them had three purposes. The first was to destroy the foundations for the new harbour in the North, he couldn't risk the Northern lords learning of the source of wood for his iron fleet, it was more then enough reason for the North to wage another war, one Balon knew he couldn't afford.

The second was revenge, he would take Stark's daughter as his salt wife for revenge against the death of his sons Rodrik and Maron, both were dead fighting Stark men, and after he had gotten the girl pregnant he would send her in disgrace back to the North.

The third reason was to get back his son Theon back, exchange the Stark girl for his last remaining son. Theon had always been a disappointment to him, to soft and weak but he was his only remaining son. Balon couldn't let the future of House Greyjoy be placed in the hands of Greenlanders, and Theon was the only male heir to house Greyjoy. None of his brothers had any children, none of them either seeming to possess the desire to have children.

A servant rushed into his hall, disturbing Balon from his thoughts. "Lord Balon," _'Lord,'_ Balon thought scornfully, _'I should be a king'_. "The reavers you sent have returned." The servant told him hesitantly, though he didn't take any notice of it.

Grabbing a horse Balon rode to the port as fast as he could, possibly coming close to near killing his horse to see his prize. When he finally reached the port, Balon was a little confused as to why there was only one longship instead of the five he had sent, but he reasoned that they must have stopped off at one of the other islands.

When he got closer to the ship he saw that it was barely manned by fifty men, all of which appeared greatly injured, and no Stark girl in sight. "What the hell happened?" Balon bellowed at his failed soldiers.

"We're sorry my lord." One of them said, falling of the deck of the ship and onto the floor of the port. Looking closely at the soldier he could see a blood stain on the man's breaches, it didn't take a genius to work out what had happened, they had been un manned.

"My lord, you might want to see this." Another nameless servant yelled as Balon reluctantly walked along the port to where he could view the other side of the ship, and what he saw angered him to no end. There carved into the mast of the ship were the words,

 _Attack the North again, and the next eunuch I send you will be your son. R.S._

Balon couldn't help but let out a scream of anger upon reading what was written on one of his ships.

 **\- line break -**

 **Rebekah POV Mikaelson Compound (four years later)**

Rebekah couldn't help but smile as she stood at the top of the Mikaelson compound, or Mikaelson castle as some called it, though it was designed unlike any other castle in Westeros. It was based of the same compound she had lived in when she had been Rebekah Mikaelson and she'd lived in New Orleans, though it was significantly larger.

Four solid walls in the shape of a rectangle that surrounded a massive courtyard. The walls were five stories high, far higher then that of the average keep, and at the corner of every side on the rectangle there was a catapult. There was only on way into the compound and that was the massive archway at the front of the keep facing the sea, that held a massive gate that blocked the entrance, made in a similar style to the gates along the Wall.

Rebekah glanced at the harbour, filled to the brim with ships, as well as the pledging town of New Orleans that stood on the Stony Shore and seemed to grow larger by the day. It had taken four bloody years worth of work but she had built the harbour, as well as earns the respect of the Northern Lords. Though Rebekah was more certain that it was what she had done to the Iron Born that had earned the respect of the lords, and their acceptance of her as the heiress of Winterfell. Bloodthirsty bastards.

The North was thriving, most of lords either mined metals, or exported large quantities of lumber earning quite a bit of gold in the North, and for the first time in history the North had a proper trade route with both the Reach and Dorne. But the gold she and her father had borrowed from the Iron Bank hadn't just been used to create a new harbour. A large portion had gone to the reconstruction of Moat Cailin, and a portion of gold had been given to each of their bannermen to restore their lands and keeps to their peek. A large portion of gold had been given to the Manderlys, allowing them to create trade routes with Essos and build an absolutely massive fleet with over a hundred war ships.

But despite how powerful and wealthy many of the Northern houses had become Rebekah had ensured that the Stark's would remain the most powerful family in the North. Her father had more then tripled the size of Wintertown, along with the revenues it created. Her family also possessed some of the most fertile lands in the North and most of the Northern lords would prefer to purchase crops and food from their liege Lord, as opposed to the ridiculously overpriced food from either the Riverlands or the Reach.

"Lady Stark, you summoned me?" Maester Qyburn asked her as he entered the balcony she was standing on. Qyburn had been sent to the Mikaelson Compound three years ago from the capital, and the man as well as all of Westeros had profited from it.

In exchange to turning a blind eye to the man's experiments and his help, Rebekah had shared her knowledge of modern medicine, as well as other simple things like boiling water and sterilising instruments. Qyburn's _discoveries_ had wiped out his shady reputation and made him one of the most respected maesters in his order.

"Yes Qyburn, in a few days I'll be returning to Winterfell and I'll be leaving you in charge of running the compound in my absence." Rebekah informed her maester who was one of the few people she generally trusted. "Is there anything that you require?" She asked him.

"No my lady," Qyburn answered. "I believe I see the Martell's ship in the distance." Qyburn informed her after a few minutes of silence.

Turning to the direction that Qyburn was facing Rebekah did indeed see a ship in the distance bearing the red sun pierced by a spear in the distance, heading towards the harbour. One very unexpected surprise from her father naming her the heir of Winterfell that it had actually opened communications with the Martells of Dorne. Though she didn't show it Rebekah was a little nervous, she knew exactly who was on that ship, the infamous Red Viper of Dorne along with his eldest bastard daughters, the equally infamous Sand Snakes. _'Well this is certainly going to be interesting,'_ Rebekah thought as she saw the ship land in the harbour.

 **End of chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Rebekah POV Mikaelson Compound.**

Rebekah stood on the port as the Martell ship docked in the harbour, as sailors both Northmen and Dornishmen started tying the ship to the dock. Once it was securely tied a rather ruggedly handsome man with dark hair and a well trimmed beard who looked to be in his late thirties approached her with three woman who appeared to be her own age, maybe a little older. "Lady Stark I believe." The man said an accent that sounded a little like a Spanish accent as he bowed slightly. Rebekah hadnever met a Dornishman before so she couldn't claim to know what a dornish accent sounded like.

"Indeed." She replied as she curtsied to him. "And you are Prince Oberyn?" She asked for confirmation. Rebekah had heard the Dornish liked pranks, and were also rather paranoid, and she wouldn't put it past them to send someone else pretending to be their prince.

"I am." Oberyn confirmed. "And these are my daughters Obara, Nymeria and Tyene _Sand_." The prince said introducing his daughters with strong emphasis on their last name, clearly expecting a reaction of some kind from her. To bad for him Rebekah couldn't give two shits about bastards.

"I've heard you three are some of the best warriors in Dorne," Rebekah began with a big smirk, "I hope the three of you are a challenge, it would be disappointing otherwise." She challenged them, after all what was the point of some of Dorne's strongest warriors going to the North if Rebekah couldn't test them for herself.

The three sand snakes were clearly a little surprised but that didn't stop them from grinning at the prospect, as the eldest Obara gave her a smirk in return. "We've also heard a lot about the 'she-wolf' of the North, we hope you live up to your own reputation."

"Oh, and what is my reputation in the South?" Rebekah asked genuinely curious about how the pompous lords south of the Neck viewed her, after all she had never been further south then Riverrun.

It was Nymeria who answered. "That you are a skilled warrior, a butcher of Iron Born,"

"And a woman of great beauty. I'm glad to see that the last is true." Tyene finished giving her an innocent look that hinted at _everything_.

"And I'm glad to see that Dornish woman are truly the most beautiful women in the world," Rebekah flirted back.

"Why thank you." Tyene replied and Rebekah just couldn't help but say.

"I said Dornish women, I didn't say you." She said while giving very open appreciative looks at both Obara and Nymeria while Tyene's sisters and father laughed.

"It seems like the North won't be as boring as I feared." Prince Oberyn stated as Tyene mock glared at them all.

After the Dornish were all rested from their voyage the Sand Snakes decided to take her up on her challenge with Obara going first. Rebekah wore the traditional Northern armour that was boiled leather and she held a long sword in her hand while Obara stood opposite her also wearing leather armour, while holding an eight foot long spear.

"If you were a man I'd be asking if you were compensating for something." Rebekah stated as she pointed at the massive bloody spear in Obara's hand, causing her opponent to snort.

"I think I'm beginning to like you Stark." The Martell bastard stated as the two of them circled each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"And I you, Sand." She replied honestly as she sized up her opponent. Though she had only just met the Sand Snakes, and they were very crude, flirtatious and even a little insulting but Rebekah couldn't deny that she liked them.

"To first blood?" Obara asked.

"To submission," she replied as Obara smirked, and then proceeded to make the first move by stabbing at her with her spear, which Rebekah easily parried before launching a counter, which was dodged by Obara.

On the side lines Oberyn watched the spar with his daughter and Rebekah Stark in interest. The Stark girl was skilled, there was no denying that but she seemed to be a bit too reliant on her strength, rather then any actual skill. "She's good." Nym stated as she eyed up her eventual opponent.

"But Obara's better." Tyene countered and it was no boast, or simply a belief in her sister's skill but a fact. Obara was more experienced and her use of the spear gave her a much longer reach and allowed her to strike far more blows at Rebekah, quickly putting her on the defensive, but.

"If Obara wants to win then she needs end this fight quickly and decisively before she loses her advantage." Oberyn informed Nym and Tyene.

It was Obara who drew first blood when she butted the end of her spear in Rebekah's face, cutting her lip. "Give up Stark." Obara ordered as she stalked around her opponent, trying to hide just how cold she was.

"In your dreams Sand." She replied with a smirk as she saw Obara's moving around and fidgeting for what it was. Obara had never been to the North, likely had never even seen snow before, and while the woman had the sense to where boiled armour to help deal with the cold she simply wasn't used to it, Rebekah however was. She simply had to wait for Obara to exhaust herself out.

After trading a few more blows Rebekah went on the offensive, launching a series of attacks with a speed and strength that Obara simply wasn't prepared for. The opportunity presented itself Obara overreached herself and Rebekah simply sidestepped the blow and then slammed the flat of her blade on her hands holding the spear, causing her to drop it. Rebekah held her blade to her throat. "Surrender?" Rebekah asked with a big smirk while Obara simply glared at her as a cheer rang through the courtyard as the Northerners clapped and cheered in support of their liege lady.

"So who's next?" Rebekah asked the Snakes at Nymeria walked up to her with a whip in hand. _'This is going to be fun,'_ Rebekah thought as she ducked under the whip strike.

 **\- line break -**

"Gods, how can you handle this cold?" Nym asked her as they rode towards Winterfell. Despite being covered in wool and furs every single member of the Dornish contingent was freezing in the cold

"Tut, tut, tut. Can't handle the cold Nymphy?" Rebekah asked using her nickname for the Sand Snake that never failed to annoy her.

"If we were in Dorne you would have already passed out from the heat." Obara snapped at her, the two of them had developed a sort of rivalry ever since she had defeated her back in the compound. The fact that Nymeria had been able to beat her and Rebekah had only just beaten Tyene certainly didn't help.

"Good thing we're not in Dorne then." Rebekah replied as she gave the eldest Sand Snake a large smile causing Obara to glare at her.

"Don't worry big sis, I'm sure that one day you'll beet her." Tyene said in a mockingly sympathetic tone as the three of them laughed slightly.

"I want a rematch." Obara told her.

"Good for you." Rebekah replied as Winterfell was in sight. "How about a race?" She challenged the three of them who readily agreed as the three of them pushed their horses to max as they raced towards the ancient castle. Nymeria was the first to make it, rushing thought the courtyard of Winterfell, forcing people to move out of her way.

"I win." The woman called out from atop of her horse as she and the woman's sisters followed her in top the courtyard. "So you did." Tyene replied as Rebekah jumped off her horse and walked straight over to her family

"Father," she greeted pulling the old man into a hug. "You're going grey father." She told him as they pulled apart.

Her father simply laughed, "that's because of you and your sister, Rebekah." Ned replied to her.

"Mother," Rebekah said to her mother less warmly. Rebekah loved her mother but the two of them had a strained relationship, always had and likely always will.

"Rebekah." Her mother greeted as they embraced but quickly drew apart.

"Sansa," Rebekah greeted coldly.

"Rebekah." Her sister replied in the same cold tone. If she had a strained relationship with her mother it was nothing compared to the one she had with her sister. Sansa half lived in a fantasy world of Knights and songs that didn't exist and while Rebekah would openly admit that she had been very foolish at many points in her last life she had never been delusional, she had always known how the world truly worked.

Though their relationship had actually only really bad when during one of Septa Mondane's _lessons_ Jeyne Poole had asked about marriage and what was expected of a woman, especially during the bedding. Mordane had replied to simply lay there and let the man do what he wanted, to which Rebekah had, not very quietly, stated "spoken like a woman who has never had the pleasure of being of fucked," to the woman's outrage, and since she was only 13 at the time it had lead to a very embarrassing talk with her parents. Anyway Sansa had been horrified that she had the gall to talk back to Mordane and openly call her the bitch that she was.

When she got to Arya her little sister just grew herself into her, causing her to let out a humph. "Why were you gone for so long, it was boring without you." Arya complained when she pulled away.

"No one to cover for you during Mordane's lessons?" Rebekah teased her baby sister.

"No, only you and Jon don't turn me in," Arya complained to the chuckling of their father. As a devout follower of the Old Gods their father had absolutely no problem with Arya skipping her lessons. "Septa Mordane is so boring."

"Well you don't need to worry little sister, I'm here to stay." Rebekah told Arya.

"Really?" Arya asked hopefully.

"Yep." The harbour was built and there was little reason for Rebekah to stay there, Qyburn was perfectly capable of running it until Bran was old enough to become its Lord.

After greeting her brothers Bran and Rickon she turned to her brother Jon who she greeted more then a little nervous and embarrassed. "Jon,"

"Rebekah," he replied equally embarrassed. Like her, Jon had spent the better part of the last four years at the Mikaelson compound, only to return to Winterfell just over two months ago. The two of them had gotten very drunk and the less said about what had happened the better. Jon had returned to Winterfell barely two days afterwards. "How have you been?" He asked her.

"Good, what about you?" Rebekah replied to prevent an uncomfortable silence. She did not like the distance that now existed between her and Jon.

"I'm good as well." Jon answered as he fidgeted slightly, just as uncomfortable as she was.

"And my mother?" Rebekah asked in concern.

"She's been kind to me." A lie she knew, but Rebekah also knew better then to bring it up. "So what are the Martells like?" Jon asked generally curious about them, he had heard a lot about Dorne and he was very curious about the southernmost kingdom of Westeros.

"Well they are very rude, blunt and even a tad insulting. You'll like them." She told him. Jon was a very well mannered person but, with the exception of Theon Greyjoy, he was also good friends with those who were very crude and blunt. Jon's friendship with Smalljon Umber and Maege Mormont's daughters were proof of that.

Jon gave a small laugh at her words before asking, "Are they as skilled as they say?" Jon asked with a pointed look towards the three Sand Snakes who were greeting her parents. Jon was without a doubt the best fighter in Winterfell and he looked forward to a new challenge.

"Yep. Far warning, don't fight Nymeria." Rebekah told him. In her opinion Nymeria was the best fighter out of the three. At the very least she was the most unpredictable, especially with her bloody whip. She was still bruised from her fight with her.

"Which one's Nymeria?" He asked and she pointed her out. "Beat you did she?" Jon teased, becoming far more relaxed with her.

"Jon I am one of the best fighters in the North." She mock bragged.

"She beat you." Jon stated certainly in amusement.

"Yep." She answered, causing Jon to laugh. "Don't be an ass." She scolded him but the smile on her face made it far less serious.

"What about the Red Viper?" He asked.

"You definitely do not want to fight him." Rebekah answered. She had no illusions about being able to defeat a warrior as renowned as Oberyn Martell but she had thought her strength and speed would give her a good chance in at least holding her own against him. But no, she had lasted a grand total of one minute against him.

"So he's as good as they say?" Jon asked intrigued.

"Better," Rebekah corrected.

"So come on sister, let's see if you have gotten any better." Jon challenged her.

"Be prepared to eat snow, Jon." Rebekah replied with a laugh.

 **\- line break -**

 **Oberyn Martell POV**

Oberyn couldn't deny that Winterfell was a very impressive castle, one of the most impressive castles he had seen and since he had traveled all over Westeros and Essos that was certainly saying something. The feast that the Stark's had thrown in honour of his arrival wasn't quite a impressive but he hadn't expected it to be. The Northerners were a very stuffy lot and he had barely been able to tolerate the glares lady Stark had sent at his daughters as soon as she realised that they were bastards.

Probably a good thing Ellaria hadn't wanted to come either, the looks the stuffy old fish would have sent her may have ensured that Lord Stark was left a widow. A clanging sound drew his attention as he entered the courtyard, ignoring the biting cold. Walking towards the sound he saw a young boy who appeared to be in his teens.

"Why aren't you at the feast?" He called out to the boy, causing him to turn towards Oberyn and when he saw who it was he realised that it was Ned Stark's bastard son.

"Lady Stark thought it would be an insult to you my Prince, to seat a bastard." The boy, Jon, informed him to his anger. That woman had insulted his family in so many ways in a single day that Oberyn truly questioned the woman's sanity. First it was the greeting she gave his daughters, then it was the icy glares she continued to give them, but then she also refused to set them at the high table in the great hall during the feast and forbid her own children from interacting with them, and worst of all she did these things in front of him. It was only the potential repercussions that stopped him from acting on his anger. Oberyn knew of stigma attached to bastards but Oberyn had been to the North several times in the past and saw that due to the harsh way of life most Northerners believed in the quality of the person instead of who their parents were, however it was clear that despite living in the North for so long Lady Stark was still a riverlander at heart.

"My daughters and closest lover are bastards." He informed the boy, "Your presence would have been no insult." Oberyn told Jon as he looked closely at the boy, he had the Stark colouring but there was also something else in the boy, something familiar.

"It's a matter that Lady Stark has long since won against my father and sister. No bastards allowed in the great hall." Jon informed him not really caring. He had long since gotten used to it and accepted it.

"By refusing bastards she insults me far more than you." Oberyn told the boy, who to Oberyn's surprise burst into laughter.

"My sister said the exact same thing." Jon told him with a smile, a smile he instantly recognised as that of Rhaella Targaryen's. Immediately Oberyn's suspicions were raised as he looked intently at the boy. He had the Stark looks, but he didn't actually look that much like Eddard Stark, in fact he actually looked more like what Oberyn remembered man's late brother Brandon looked like. And even more like Lyanna Stark, Oberyn realised with a rush of anger.

Oberyn despised Lyanna Stark with every fibre of his being. He hated that whore more then he hated both Rhaegar and Aerys Targaryen. Oberyn knew for a fact that Lyanna went willingly with Rhaegar instead of being abducted by him, and therefore the entire war, along with the deaths of his sister, niece and nephew were all because of her.

Oberyn had traveled all over Essos, especially Volantis where the blood of old Valyria was still strong. While Jon Snow didn't have the traditional Valyrian looks, like the purple eyes and silver hair, but he certainly possessed the more subtle but still present Valyrian, or rather Targaryen, features.

"My Prince?" Jon asked concerned, having noticed his quietness.

"Tell me boy," Oberyan began asking, harsher then he meant to. "Do you know who your mother is?" Oberyn was very skilled at detecting lies and Jon didn't strike him as a particularly skilled liar.

"No my prince. My father doesn't like talking about her." Jon told him honestly and confused about why the prince of Dorne would ask about his mother.

"Carry on." Oberyn told the boy as he headed to his guest chambers, his thoughts going a mile a minute. If Doran didn't know, or at the very least didn't suspect the truth about about the boy's parentage then Oberyn vowed to eat his armour. That boy may very well be one of the main reasons Doran sent him to the North in the first place. Oberyn promised that he would have a long talk with his brother when he returned to Dorne. He would also need to talk to Ned Stark about the boy.

 **\- line break -**

 **Rebekah POV**

"You're brother is very skilled," Nym stated as they watched Tyene and Jon fight. It was a very close one and Rebekah watched the fight with rapt attention.

"That he is." Rebekah muttered as she admired Jon's form. He was more skilled then her, far more. _'He's also very att- No Rebekah don't think that,'_ She scolded herself.

"I'm surprised he doesn't hesitate." Obara pointed out after Jon launched a particularly vicious blow that Tyene was only just able to dodge.

"Years of me kicking Jon on his ass has taught him to never underestimate a woman," Rebekah told the Sand Snakes with a hint of pride.

"I wouldn't mind knocking him on his ass." Nym muttered as she gave Jon a very lustful look, nearly causing Rebekah to frown. It was then that her hearing picked up something that caught her attention.

"Lord Stark," she heard Prince Oberyn begin speaking to her father, "I need to talk to you about your _bastard_." There was something strange about the way he said it, not insulting but almost disbelieving.

"About what?" Her father asked suspiciously.

"His parents." The Prince of Dorne answered. Subtly Rebekah glanced to where her father and Oberyn were conversing with each other, and though he hid it well, Rebekah could see that her father seemed genuinely afraid.

"We'll speak in my solar." Her father told the Red Viper as the two of them headed towards said solar and Rebekah began following them.

"Where are you heading?" Nym asked her.

"To the privy," she answered as to the Sand Snake's laugh. A slightly embarrassing answer but not one to raise questions as she headed to her father's solar, standing a good deal away from the entrance and down a corridor. While her strength and speed was nothing compared to what they were, her senses however were just as strong as they were when she had died.

"I must say Lord Stark," she heard Oberyn say, "I am impressed."

 **\- line break -**

"About what, Prince Oberyn?" Ned asked, trying not to appear nervous. He had known that the Martells would be one of the few people who might recognise Jon but he had hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"Considering that you lost your father and brother to the Targaryens, I am surprised that you would protect one, even if he is your nephew." Oberyn stated lounging in the chair opposite Ned's, completely at ease.

"What gave Jon away?" Ned asked as he placed a hand on Ice, fearing that a fight may be inevitable. Oberyn Martell's hatred for those who caused the death for his sister, niece and nephew was infamous, and he feared that Oberyn may try to hurt Jon for being Lyanna's son.

"The boy has the Stark looks, but the Targaryen features are present if one looks properly." Oberyn answered still at ease despite knowing that Stark was holding his sword in his hand.

"Have you told anyone?" Ned asked.

"No, but I suspect that one of the reasons my brother sent me here was to find out more about the boy. Doran may not know for certain, but I would bet everything that he suspects." Oberyn answered angrily. He loved and respected his brother, he really did, but Oberyn was sick and tired of all his schemes and plots.

Ned was not happy about the Prince's response, he knew that many regarded Prince Doran as weak but he knew that the man was just as dangerous, if not more so then his hotheaded younger brother. "Do you mean Jon any harm?" Ned asked in an almost threatening tone of voice.

Oberyn took a minute before answering. "I won't lie Lord Stark, I despise your sister with my entire being. In fact if childbirth hadn't killed her I likely would have done it myself." Ned's face tightened at his words and he looked ready to interrupt. "Especially as I know for a fact that she went willingly with Rhaegar Targaryen."

"But I don't blame children for the sins of their parents." He answered, causing Eddard to let out a sigh of relief and visibly relax. "Besides, the boy is well mannered and from what I have seen a truly decent person."

"Indeed." Eddard replied with a hint of pride.

Oberyn stood up to leave and Eddard did the same. "I promise you Lord Eddard that you have nothing to fear from either me or my brother. We may hate Lyanna and Rhaegar but as long as Jon does nothing to earn our enmity then we would never do anything to harm him." Prince Oberyn promised.

"Thank you Prince Oberyn." Eddard stated shaking hands with him.

 **\- line break -**

Rebekah was completely shocked speechless. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been so shocked. Jon, her brother was not her brother at all but her cousin. That actually made her feel a little better.

He also wasn't a bastard at all but the true heir of the seven kingdoms. The true king of Westeros. No wonder her father was so protective of Jon, after what had happened to his half siblings Aegon and Rhaenys of course her father would do anything to protect Jon. The question was what was Rebekah going to do with what she had learnt. Should she tell Jon about his parentage or wait for her father to tell him.

She was also worried about the Dornishmen that were in Winterfell. Rebekah couldn't bring herself to trust the Dornish, not after what she had just learned.

 **Saint River: I honestly don't have a clue about what to do with Theon, he and Rebekah probably won't be friends but I don't think that I'll make them enemies. But I have been thinking about making Theon one of Jon's kings guard.**

 **There have been a few questions about how powerful Rebekah is and how powerful she will become. I won't say how powerful she will become, spoilers, but she is not so powerful at the moment that exceptionally skilled fighters like Oberyn Martell, Jaime Lannister, the Mountain, the Hound would have much of a problem beating her.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Rebekah POV**

When Prince Oberyn was out of sight Rerbekah walked straight into her father's solar. Her father looked tired, almost unbelievably so, but also relieved. He had clearly suspected that the Martells would discover the truth about Jon and had feared how they would react. Rebekah would admit that she was surprised with Prince Oberyn honesty about not meaning Jon any enmity, it seems what everyone said about Dorne was true, they do not despise bastards, no matter their parents.

"How much did you overhear?" Her father demanded, sounding rather angry. _'Perhaps I should have waited,'_ Rebekah lamented slightly, ' _But to late to go back now'_.

"Everything." She admitted as she took the seat that Prince Oberyn had vacated. "Is it true? Is Jon really the son of Rhaegar Targaryen?" Despite everything that she had heard Rebekah needed to hear it from her father's lips.

"He is." Ned Stark was tired. He had known that the truth would come out sooner or later but he had hoped, rather foolishly in hindsight, that the truth would always stay secret. But he had forgotten one important thing that Jon Arryn had taught him, sooner or later the truth would always be revealed.

"Why didn't you tell mother, or Jon, or me." Rebekah snapped angrily, giving her father a glare that could send grown men into whimpering fools. While Catelyn was nowhere near as bad as Mikael, hell she wasn't even in the same league as him, but it didn't change the fact that she had made Jon's life as unpleasant as possible. She had also succeeded in turning Sansa against Jon and now her younger sister seemed to hate Jon more then her mother did.

"Because I was afraid," her father answered before Ned's expression turned angry. "You had only just been born Rebekah so obviously you weren't there. You weren't there when King's Landing fell." Her father was silent for a few seconds before hew continued, "the joy on Robert's face when he was presented with the bodies of Elia Martell and her children. I knew without a shadow of doubt that if he so much as heard a rumour about who Jon really was then he would not stop until Jon was dead. Better Jon be an alive bastard then a dead Targaryen."

Rebekah's anger faded at her father's words. She had heard about what had happened to Elia Martell and it truly disgusted her. Atrocities were always committed in war and soldiers always disobeyed their commander but there was nothing accidental about what had happened to the Princess of Dorne. There was little worse you could do to a woman besides raping hear, but killing the woman's children, then raping her with their blood on the rapists hands. There was little worse then that in Rebekah's mind.

"Do you trust Prince Oberyn?" Her father asked her after a long silence.

"He sounded honest, but just because he doesn't mean Jon any harm, doesn't mean that no one from Dorne does." Rebekah knew her history well and relations between Dorne and the Targaryens had always been tense at best, even after the double marriages between the Targaryens and Martell's. There were likely more then a few in Dorne who would gladly see house Targaryen wiped out once and for all. "When are you going to tell Jon and mother?" Rebekah asked getting straight to the point.

"And why do they really need to know?" Ned asked causing Rebekah to hold back a literal snarl that would have sounded a lot like the direwolf on their banner.

"Perhaps because if you don't tell Jon Prince Oberyn might." _'And if he doesn't I will,'_ Rebekah vowed that Jon would know the truth. It should come from her father but if he doesn't have the guts to tell Jon she would do it herself. "And mother deserves to know, maybe then she won't look at Jon like he's less then dirt."

"You have until tomorrow to tell Jon the truth father," Rebekah warned him as she stood up to leave, "otherwise I will." With that said she left her father to make his decision, as Rebekah's thoughts drifted to Jon, the Martell's and the chance of war. Rebekah knew that if it came to war then her father would back Jon's claim, regardless of the fact it would send him into war against his best friend, but that didn't mean that it was a war that they could win. The North could amass up to 40,000 soldiers, including green boys and grey beards. The Manderly's had a rather massive fleet of 100 war ships but there were barely a dozen at the Mikaelson Compound. The reconstruction of Moat Cailin had began but it would be years, possibly even decades before it was anywhere near its former glory.

Then there was the North's external allies. The Riverlands held some of the most fertile lands in the Seven Kingdoms, even more so, ever since Rebekah had introduced modern farming techniques like crop rotations, just as she had done to the North. It was also believed that her grandfather could call upon a host of up to 40,000 but the Riverlands had always been politically divided, plus they were strategically the worst location on the entire continent.

The Vale was also bound to the North through her aunt Lysa. Rebekah grimaced slightly at the thought of her aunt, if evan half of what she had heard about her was true then she was as mad as a bat, who still breastfed her son, who six or seven she believed. Her cousin _sweetrobin 'Ridiculous name,'_ she couldn't help but think, was also a sickly little boy who was unlikely to survive to adulthood. _'No, the Vale can't be counted on,'_ Rebekah decided.

"I see the heiress of the North is an eavesdropper." An amused voice broke her out of her thoughts. _'Fucking shit,'_ as she literally jumped a mile and drew her dagger in shock, to the amused laughter of the Prince of Dorne as she glared at him.

"Don't fucking do that." She warned panting slightly, still pointing her dagger at him. She was not happy about the fact that he had been able to sneak up on her. The man just continued smirking as he walked closer to her. The Prince appeared calm and at ease but Rebekah was observant enough to see that in less then a second he could drew the twin daggers on his belt, no doubt coated with a deadly and incurable poison. Rebekah returned her dagger to its sheath, there was no need for it. "And when it concerns my family, I am an eavesdropper." She admitted it.

"So am I." Oberyn replied with the same smirk before it was replaced with a serious look. "You don't trust me, or my daughters." The prince stated, it wasn't a question.

"I like your daughters," Rebekah replied, "but I don't trust them, or you." She admitted. "Did you mean what you said about not baring Jon any ill?" She wanted, no needed to hear it from his own lips.

"I mean it." Oberyn answered truly honest, "I don't blame chaildren for the sins of the father."

"And can you promise the same if everyone in Dorne?" Rebekah questioned.

"I can't," he conceded, "but can you promise that no one in the North would wish to see Jon dead for his parents are?" He questioned and she couldn't. The Targaryens were not well loved in the North, in fact the majority of the lords hated them, and if it became known that Lyanna Stark had not only gone willingly with Rhaegar Targaryen, but Eddard Stark had been hiding a Targaryen in Winterfell for years, it would greatly weaken the position of the Starks. In fact it may even give Roose Bolton the support the man needed to put his plans into action.

"I can't." Rebekah stated a little reluctant. "You said to my father that you believed one of the reasons you were here was to find out the truth about Jon, what was the other reason?" She asked him.

"To create a betrothal between our families. My nephew Prince Trystane for your sister Arya." His niece Arianne was far to old for the Stark boys, and if Oberyn's suspicions were correct then his brother would wish for Arianne to marry Jon Snow, after all Viserys Targaryen was proving himself to be a bitter disappointment. Doran also already had a marriage in mind for Qyntane, which only left Trystane. He was a couple years older then Arya but far worse matches had been made.

"You'd have to talk to my father about that." Rebekah told him, she really couldn't picture Arya liking the idea of being betrothed, her sister was as stubborn and hotheaded as they come. But the Dornish were far more liberal and open minded then any other region in Westeros. Rebekah could imagine her little sister being happy in Dorne, even if she wouldn't be happily married. "Do you mean to use Jon for revenge?" She questioned him.

"What do you mean?" Oberyn questioned even though he knew exactly what she meant.

"Your family's desire for vengeance is well known, not that I can blame you, but will you use Jon get your vengeance?" If both her father and the Martells declared for Jon then he would have the two kingdoms with the strongest natural defences behind him, more then enough to shatter the Lannister and Baratheon armies.

"If I truly wanted a war, I would have killed Tywin Lannister years ago, regardless of the consequences." Oberyn answered her. "I would gladly go to war against the Lannisters and Baratheons but I won't put Dorne through a needless war unless I have no choice."

"Good, because if house Martell is responsible for the truth about Jon being revealed then I promise you Prince Oberyn, that will regret it." Rebekah promised him. Some might call her a fool for threatening the Red Viper of Dorne, but Rebekah was no fool, and while she couldn't beat him in a fair fight Rebekah didn't fight fair.

"Is that a threat, lady Stark?" Oberyn asked in an amused tone, but she could detect the dangerous hint in it.

Rebekah smirked and for a very quick second changed her eyes to what they truly were, but only for a moment. "Of course not my prince. Please enjoy the remainder of your stay in Winterfell." She answered as she headed to her chambers, leaving a confused prince in her wake.

 **\- line break -**

 **Jon POV**

There was something going on. Jon didn't know what it was but there was definitely something going on. For starters Rebekah had been acting very strangely, as if she wanted to say something to him but wouldn't, and it was also in the way she looked at the Dornish. In distrust, strange since he knew that Rebekah had been getting along very well with them. Jon knew his sister well enough that whatever she was hiding was clearly important in the way she acted. "Jon." His father said to him coming up behind. Turning to face his father he could have sworn that the man seemed to have aged a decade in a single day.

"Lord Stark." In private Jon was free to call this man father, but in public he was forced to address him by what he was, the Lord of Winterfell, nothing more or less.

"Come with me Jon, there's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you long ago." Eddard revealed in a tone that seemed warn and tired, which currently seemed to be the best way to describe his father.

On the way to his father's solar Jon's thoughts were going a mile a minute. Was his father finally going to tell him what he wanted to know, who his father was, Jon hoped so but after so many years of asking his father for the truth he really didn't feel certain.

"Have a seat." Eddard said as he sat down at they both sat down at his desk. "Can you guess why you're here?" His father asked him to which Jon simply shook his head. He really had no idea. It could be about his mother or for all he knew Lady Stark had finally gotten her wish and he was being sent away. "I'm telling you the truth, a truth I should have told you years ago." His father began.

Eddard explained everything, the tourney of Harrenhall and the knight of the laughing tree. Lyanna Stark's so called kidnapping and finally the Tower of Joy. Jon was in shock he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. "Jon are you okay?" His father- no his uncle asked him softly.

 _'How can I be okay,'_ Jon wanted to scream but he didn't, he didn't say a word. People often spoke about how the bastard of Winterfell was solemn and silent regardless of the situation and that proved true in that situation. "May I be excused Lord Stark?" He asked formally but Jon needed to leave, he just needed to and when his uncle nodded his consent he left without a second thought.

Jon headed out of the castle, straight into the Godswood. He and fath- no his uncle were the only members of their family to pray only to the Old Gods. Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon prayed to both the Old and New Gods while Jon knew that Rebekah didn't believe in the gods, though he didn't know why.

Jon couldn't quite fathom it really, Rhaegar Targaryen, the silver prince, or the silver fool as he had heard Rebekah once call him, was his father. Much like many in the North Jon didn't really have a high opinion of the Targaryen family, which now actually amused him slightly. But that was nowhere near as shocking as the fact that Aerys Targaryen, the _fucking_ mad King was his grandfather, who also responsible for the death of his other grandfather. "My family truly is fucked up." Jon couldn't help but mutter as he stared into the sap covered eyes of the heart tree.

"That's one way of putting it," a voice that he recognised as his sis- No his cousin Jon reminded himself as he turned to face her. Rebekah stood at the edge of the Godswood, seeming a little unsure about how to proceed.

"Rebekah, did you know?" He asked her, trying to keep his voice even but he was struggling. Jon was aware enough that he was still in shock, and he was angry, confused and even a tad scared. When Rebekah nodded he felt his temper snap. "Then why didn't you say anything?" He snapped at her. "How could you not tell me?" He asked her with a hollow voice.

"Because it should have come from father and it did." Rebekah stated calmly. "How do you feel?" She asked him in concern.

"How am I supposed to feel?" He screamed at her as he took a few steps towards her. "Everything that happened is my fault. The war, the slaughter, the death of my siblings." He then gave a short bitter laugh. "Even my own mother died giving birth to me, and anyone finds out about who I am then the Lannister and Baratheons will- SMACK.

So caught up in his rant and anger that Jon didn't notice the hand that went flying towards his face, but he sure as hell felt it burning his cheek. Blinking a few times he could see Rebekah's no really calm and beautiful blue eyes blazing with a fury that he had never seen from her. "Listen to me Jon, the rebellion was in no way your fault. You want to know whose fault it was, it war Aerys fucking Targaryens fault, NOT YOURS. And your aunt Lyanna was only fourteen when she gave birth to you, far too young to give birth, which makes it Rhaegar's fault, not yours. And as for what happened to your siblings well the blame for their deaths is placed solely on the hands of Tywin Lannister and his dogs, he didn't have to kill them, in fact they would have been far more valuable alive then dead, but that old bastard chose to kill them out of spite." Rebekah took a deep breath as she calmed herself down and tried to a different approach to convince Jon that what happened decades ago wasn't his fault. "Jon, you need to talk to Prince Oberyn?"

"The Red Viper?" Jon asked sounding a little baffled. The Prince of Dorne didn't exactly strike Jon as someone he should talk to, especially the role his parents played in starting the war.

"Yes. Despite his hatred for Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister he bares you no ill will. You should talk to him, it would do you a world of good." Rebekah advised and after giving him a comforting hug she exited the Godswood.

 **\- line break -**

 **Catelyn POV**

Catelyn rushed out of her husbands solar as fast as her feet could take her, her mind a rush of emotions, anger and guilt being the most prominent as her thoughts drifted to the bast- to Jon Snow, she corrected herself.

Catelyn could still remember the vow she had made so many years ago. _'I will be a mother to him. I will make him a Stark,'_ she remembered but now it was too late. It was far to late for her to ever be a mother to the boy now, in fact she knew that the boy, though he hid it well, held nothing but disdain for her and any attempt at reconciliation she made with Jon would be viewed with suspicion and mistrust.

She was also angry at her husband, angry and hurt. He had kept something so important from her for so many years that she could barely even look at him at the moment. It was with that anger in mind that she headed straight to her personal chambers and Catelyn began writing to someone she hadn't even seen since before Robert's Rebellion.

 _Dear Petyr,_

 **\- line break -**

 **Rebekah POV**

"I don't want to be betrothed!" Arya yelled in outrage while Rebekah simply sighed. They had wisely decided to wait until after the Martells had left before informing Arya of her betrothal to Trystane Martell. Rebekah was actually quite sad that the Martells, well the Sand Snakes had left, they had been a breath of fresh air compared to the countless curtesy' she had gone through with the daughters of all the Northern lords.

"It's not even official yet." Rebekah reminded her sister, "Trystane will spend a year in Winterfell then the two of you will spend a year in Sunspear. At the end of it if the two of you don't like each other then you won't get married. Father isn't going to force you into a marriage that you don't want."

"I don't care." Arya snapped back. "I never want to get married." Rebekah wondered the best way to handle the situation. And like with everything else the solution came from Arya's rivalry with Sansa.

"You know if you marry Trystane then you will be a Princess." Rebekah reminded her favourite sibling, wondering how long it would take her to work it out. Arya was smart but at the same time she could also be as thick as a plank.

"I don't want to be a princess." Arya replied as she threw her throwing knife at the large oak tree, before going to the tree and pulling it out. The two of them were in the outskirts of Winterfell, near the Godswood.

Rebekah and Arya had attempted, and pleaded in Arya's case, with their parents to train Arya how to fight but unlike when Rebekah had requested to learn how to fight, their parents had refused to budge, regardless of what tactic she and her sister had attempted to convince them. Personally, Rebekah thought that her parents wanted another perfect daughter like Sansa, unfortunately for them they weren't going to get one.

With their parents refusal that Arya be taught how to fight Rebekah had taken it upon herself to train her sister in secret. Arya wasn't very skilled with a sword but she had proven to have rather remarkable hand eye coordination, which resulted in her being rather proficient in archery and with throwing knives.

"That's true." Rebekah stated with a smirk as she threw her own knife at the tree, perfectly hitting the centre of the self carved target. "But Sansa does." Arya was confused for a few moments before she started chuckling, then giggling and then it involved into a full blown laughter which proved to be infectious as Rebekah started laughing as well. All girls, lowborn and high born dreamed of being a princess, but Sansa had never let go of that dream and she had actually cried when she had learnt of her betrothal to Domeric. Not because of his families reputation or any similar reason but because it meant that she would never be married to the Crown Prince, who she had never met and was by all accounts a right little prick.

"Well that is a very good point." Arya admitted reluctantly.

"It is, besides if Prince Trystane is anything like his uncle then you will be a very lucky lady." Rebekah replied with a small smirk. After all, despite being in his forties the Red Viper of Dorne was an exceptionally handsome man, and rumoured to be an exceptional lover.

"What do you mean by that?" Arya asked a little confused by what her sister meant.

Rebekah simply let out a small laugh. "I'll tell you when you're a little older Arya." She answered with a smile as her sister pouted in annoyance.

 **\- line break -**

 **Jon POV**

Jon looked intensively at the statue of Lyanna Stark, his mother. Jon had spent the last few days asking the older population of Winterfell, Lord Stark, and remembering what Prince Oberyn had told him and he had come to the conclusion that Lyanna Stark was a spoilt brat. Rather then trying to find some form of happiness with Robert Baratheon she had decided to run off with a married man, and eloped with said married man.

In truth Jon couldn't help but feel sorry for Robert Baratheon, despite the fact that the man had spat at the bodies of his step mother and half siblings. In his quest to find out more about his mother Jon had learnt about a visit the King had made to Winterfell back when he was simply the heir of Storm's End.

It was said that Robert had showered his mother with praises and gifts and that even a blind man would have been able to see the love the King had held for his mother. But all Lyanna had given Robert in return for his affections was scorn and thinly veiled insults. No, Jon Snow, or Aemon Targaryen, or whatever the hell his name truly was, did not have a high opinion of his mother.

 _'Or my father,'_ he thought bitterly as he felt his hands clench in anger. In his opinion Rhaegar Targaryen, the so called Silver Prince, was a complete and utter bastard. The man cared nothing about his wife or children, only his prophecies. Otherwise he wouldn't have left Elia Martell or his siblings Aegon and Rhaenys to the mercy of the Mad King. Jon also knew that Rhaegar also wouldn't have been pleased with him as he wasn't a _Visenya_ , and he didn't fit the man's stupid prophecy, the dragon needs three heads. _'No, that man is not my father,'_ Jon decided without a second of doubt, _'Eddard Stark is my father'_.

After giving one last glance at the statue of his mother Jon Snow proceeded to leave the crypts of Winterfell for good. Walking through the courtyard of Winterfell he headed straight towards his father's solar. The guards littered around the halls of the corridors of Winterfell did nothing to stop his course, they knew he wouldn't harm his father. When he reached the entrance to his father's solar he knocked thrice times on the door.

"Enter," his father called out and he did so. "Jon, what can I do for you?" His father asked, getting up from his seat behind his desk.

"I just wanted to thank you." Jon started off. It probably didn't need to be said, but it was something that Jon felt he should say. A lesser man would have left him out to die, and even many so called honourable would not have raised the son of their enemy. But despite everything that Eddard Stark had lost to House Targaryen, his father still raised him among his own children.

"There's no need Jon," his father began before he interrupted him.

"Yes there is father." Jon said, noting the widening his his eyes at the last word. "You could have left me in Dorne, or sent me to the Wall, but you didn't. Instead you brought me to Winterfell and raised me as your son, and for that I thank you father."

"You are my family Jon, and all that's left of my sister. I know you didn't have the easiest life..."

"I'm far luckier then most, my half siblings included." Eddard Stark had a small wince at the mention of Aegon and Rhaenys, even though he wasn't responsible for what happened to the prince and princess he had long since felt a great deal of guilt about what had happened. "And there's no such thing as an easy life father."

"Wise of you." Eddard stated with a small smile before it turned into a frown. "But there's something else isn't there?" He questioned the man he viewed as his son.

"There is," Jon admitted, feeling a bit confused about how he should proceed. "I used to think that I would end up joining the Nights Watch." He started.

"The Nights Watch is an honourable order." His father couldn't help but state.

"True, but I used to believe that there was nowhere else that a bastard could find their place in the world." Jon stated, and he still believed it. "And while it's possible that I might one day join the Nights Watch, I don't wish to yet, but."

His father was confused for a moment before realisation dawned on him. "You wish to leave Winterfell?" Eddard guessed, to which Jon nodded. It was strange, when he thought he was a bastard Jon believed that he had no place in the world, something that he couldn't help but believe was stupid since he felt his opinions on the matter change.

"I want to see the world father," Jon admitted openly. "I want to see the Titan of Braavos, the great bridge of Volantis and the pyramids of the East." There were so many wonders in the world, and Jon wanted to at least be able to say that he had seen some of them.

Ned was conflicted, after all Jon would be much safer in Winterfell, and not just from those who would wish him harm for who his parents were. The world was filled with cutthroat and bandits, traveling the world sounded like a novel idea but in reality it was very dangerous. "And if I should refuse you?" He asked Jon, causing him to gain a stubborn glint in his eyes that he immediately recognised as belonging to his late sister Lyanna.

"Then I will simply sneak out of the castle in the middle of the Nights, borrow a horse from the Winterfell stab,Es and be gone by morning." Jon spoke in a stubborn and determined voice and to his surprise his father simply let out a few chuckles.

"Follow me Jon." Ned stated as he left his solar, leaving his nephew to follow him. Jon followed his father until they reached the Winterfell armoury.

"The armoury?" He asked his uncle slightly confused. He already had some armour, as well as a sword and dagger, which was all in good quality. He didn't really need another weapon.

"Indeed." Ned replied as the two of them walked through the armoury, which Jon admired slightly. It was well stocked and supplied, without any of the needless ornaments and decorations that existed on weapons in the South. It didn't matter if you had a simple second hand sword or one plated in gold. A weapon was a weapon.

The two of them walked to the edge of the armoury which held a bolted door. Jon could remember himself and Rebekah trying to open that very door many years ago to try and find out what was inside it but they never could.

Withdrawing a key from his pocket Ned unlocked the door, and started to open the door, creaking as it slowly opened. Looking inside he only saw a small, dusty cupboard, but also a sword holder and a sword. The hilt of the sword appeared to be made of solid gold, while the pommel was designed in the shape of a flame. And at the centre of the cross, there was a small but distinct gem, a ruby unless Jon was mistaken. The scabbard itself was pitch black, made of dark leather just like the grip. Despite his opinions on weapons Jon couldn't deny that it was a very beautiful sword.

Picking up the sword from its holding Ned gave it to Jon. Withdrawing the sword a few inches from its scabbard and immediately noticed the distinct dark ripples and patterns running along the blade. "This is Valyrian steel." He stated as he stared at the blade in shock. Valyrian steel blades were the rarest in the world, with their believed to be less the two hundred that managed to survive the doom of Valyria. "How do you have this?" Jon couldn't help but ask Ned in shock.

"My brother Benjen found it north of the Wall on a ranging many years ago." Ned explained . "And it's yours now?"

"Father I can't." Jon replied shaking his head as he held the blade back to his father.

"This is your families sword Jon," Ned stated. "And it is more your blade then it will ever be mine."

At his father's words he took another look at the blade in his hand, really looked at it. It was a rather slim blade, a contrast to most swords and if it wasn't made out of Valyrian steel then it would possibly shatter after a few blows. And on the pommel of the sword there was a small symbol scratched into it. The symbol of a three headed dragon. "This is Dark Sister." He stated, to which Ned nodded. The ancient Valyrian steel sword that was first wielded by Visenya Targaryen and was lost beyond the Wall. "How did uncle Benjen find it?" He asked, staring at the blade with new found interest. Just because Jon had no respect for Rhaegar Targaryen, didn't mean that he wasn't fascinated by several members of his father's family.

"Your great uncle Aemon Targaryen, who is the maester of Castle Black, told your uncle of its location when I told them both about your parentage." Ned explained, piquing Jon's interest. He had not thought that there was another Targaryen in Westeros. Hell, he hadn't even thought that there were any other Targaryens apart from his uncle Viserys and his aunt Daenerys.

 _'Aemon Targaryen, my namesake,'_ he thought, making a mental note to get in contact with the man at some point. Ned and Prince Oberyn had told him what they could of House Targaryen but Maester Aemon would be the only living source who could tell him what he wanted to know, needed to know.

"Thank you father," Jon stated as he still stared at the blade, before strapping the blade at his waist, its weight feeling uncomfortable and even a little unnerving.

 **\- line break -**

Jon sat crouched before a small campfire. He was roughly a days ride from Winterfell, and two days from the Mikaelson compound, after which he planned to book passage on a ship to either Seaguard or Lannisport. Likely the former, the further away he was from Casterly Rock the better. The chances of Tywin Lannister actually knowing who he was was practically nonexistent but better to be safe then sorry.

His father had given him a horse for his journey as well as a good deal of silver stags and even a couple of gold dragons, which should last him for a good few months, what he'd do after that Jon would work out when he crossed that bridge. Bran, Rickon and even Sansa had not been happy with him leaving but they had accepted it when he promised to write and send them gifts, and in Sansa's case bring stories of the South, all of which he intended to do.

Arya had been near heartbroken when he told his family that he would be leaving, but he had given her the perfect going away present. Jon knew that Rebekah was training Arya how to fight, in fact whenever Rebekah was away at the Mikaelson castle, or one of the other Northern holdfasts he actually trained her himself. Arya was too short and slim to wield any ordinary sword, but that didn't make her incapable of wielding one. Jon researched the Braavosi style blades which would suite Arya perfectly and he had hired Mikken to produce one, which he had given to Arya just before he left.

Rebekah also hadn't been happy about him leaving, in fact for a few moments Jon was afraid that she would slap him again but luckily she didn't. He also knew that she was also a little jealous about him. Jon knew that she wanted to see the world just like he did but she was stuck in the North with her duties and responsibilities.

The sound of a snapped twig caught his attention and raised his suspicions as he stood up, with his hand on his sword. A normal sword as he had left _Dark Sister_ at Winterfell. Jon knew that travelling Westeros wasn't necessarily safe and having a Valyrian steel sword would only attract unnecessary attention, and he had told his father and Rebekah that it was a guaranty that he would return, to collect his sword.

"Who's there?" He demanded, withdrawing his sword a few inches, his body tense and he was more then ready for a fight if need be.

CRACK. Another twig snapped, this time from behind him and he felt the cold and no doubt sharp steel of a dagger at the back of his neck. Immediately Jon let go of his sword and held his arms in the air slightly.

"I'd ask you for money," an amused and female voice that he immediately recognised said, and immediately Jon relaxed. "But I know you don't have any." She continued.

"Rebekah." He said in a fake annoyed voice as he turned around to greet her. She wore the largest smirk on her face that he had ever seen and he could tell that she was fighting her every urge not to burst into laughter. "I should have known that you wouldn't stay in Winterfell." He told her.

"You know nothing Jon Targaryen." She spoke with the same smirk on her face. _'Jon Targaryen,'_ he thought for a moment and Jon decided he liked that name. Better then Jon Snow or Aemon Targaryen.

 **End of chapter 4. Please review.**

 **Saint River: You're right, Jon wouldn't want the Iron Throne, but Jon won't be the one who starts the war. And your right that making Theon a Kingsgaurd would mean an annoying amount of character development, so I'll probably decide to just keep him as Lord of Pyke and the Iron Islands.**

 **Also neither Rhaegar or Lyanna will be written in high esteem in this story as they are respectively a complete dick and a spoilt brat, and after Ellaria Sand and Catelyn Tully they are my least favourite characters.**

 **Sorry for the delay but real life has just been getting in the way but I got the seventh season of GOT for Christmas and I can feel my inspiration returning.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Oberyn POV**

Oberyn walked through the halls of the water gardens palace, heading straight to the quarters of his brother. Along the way he passed Areo Hotah who nodded at him in acceptance to pass. Oberyn would never hurt his brother in any way, in fact if necessary the Red Viper would gladly give his life for Doran.

His brother sat in his wheeled chair, his legs long having been crippled with gout, watching the children playing in the water gardens, which included three of his youngest daughters. "Brother." He greeted with a small bow of his head as he stood alongside his brother.

"Oberyn, how was the North?" Doran asked him, keeping his gaze fixed on the playing children. It was a well kept secret that his brother often strategised while watching the children playing in the water gardens.

"Cold and wet." He answered before fixing his brother with a sharp gaze, "And you were right." He told Doran.

"About what?" Doran questioned, sounding like he was barely even paying attention to the conversation but Oberyn knew better.

"About Jon _Snow_ ," Oberyn snapped at his brother, while stressing boy's last name to inform his brother that he had learnt the truth. "How long have you suspected that he was the son of Rhaegar?" He demanded.

"So it's true then?" Doran questioned instead of answering, no doubt wondering how this would affect his plans.

"Answer the question?" He demanded again, being careful not to raise his voice to much and gather the attention of Doran's guards.

"Ever since I found out that Ashara Dayne's child was not only a girl but stillborn." Doran answered in the same annoyingly calm voice. "Unlike his older brother Brandon, Eddard Stark has never so much as been in a whore house, the only woman who was ever able to garner his attention was the beauty of Starfall." Oberyn remembered Ashara Dayne, she had been one of his playmates in the water gardens as well as one of his sister's ladies in waiting, so he had known her very well and he had been saddened when she had taken her own life, not that he could actually blame her. She had lost her daughter, brother as well as her sister in all but name.

"Fifteen fucking years," he snapped shocked as he began to pace around the room to calm himself down. Counting backwards from ten he walked straight in front of his brother, blocking his view of the children and for the first time since entering the room Doran Martell looked his brother in the eyes. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Oberyn knew his brother kept secrets, he knew that better then anyone but the fact that Doran had kept something so important from him for so long honestly hurt.

"Because you are rash and impulsive." Doran answered calmly. "If I had told you of my suspicions about the boy after the rebellion then it would have been entirely possible that you would have raised Dorne in rebellion for him. And due to the fact that the boy is his nephew Lord Stark would be forced to raise the North in rebellion for the boy and the last thing we needed before everything was ready was war."

Oberyn glared at his brother but didn't say anything, because he could picture himself doing just that. Oberyn could still picture himself doing that but the threat Rebekah Stark had given him gave him pause. Oberyn had travelled all over the known world and had met many dangerous people, men and woman capable of committing countless atrocities without a second thought and the Stark heiress matched them all with ease.

"Why tell me now? After all, I can still do what you just said that you feared me doing." He was missing a piece of the information.

"I have been keeping an eye on the boy but over the last few years my eyes and ears in Winterfell have either been relocated, put in insignificant positions, or in some cases killed. By all accounts the same has been done to the Lannisters, Tyrells, Littlefinger's and even Varys' little birds."

"Rebekah Stark." He stated immediately without hesitation. Eddard Stark was a good and honourable man, one of the few that actually existed in this shit world, but he was a fool when it came to the game. The Lord of Winterfell probably wasn't even aware that there were spies in Winterfell, but Oberyn doubted that his daughter was so ignorant.

"I suspected that she might have had something to do with it. Their disappearance coincides with around the same time she started taking an active role with the running of Winterfell." It was well hidden but he could just made out the tone of administration in his brother's voice.

"You admire her." Oberyn stated.

"Respect rather then admire," Doran corrected. "But at the tender age of eleven she has not only successfully built a harbour in the North that has in four years become one of the richest seats in the North but she has also taken an active role in the running of Winterfell, and to a lesser extent the rest of the North. She is worthy of at least some respect."

"She's dangerous," he informed his brother.

"To us?" Doran questioned, his quick mind likely already coming up with a dozen ways to either turn her into an ally or neutralise her. Anyone who thought Doran wasn't dangerous was a complete and utter fool.

"No. She strikes me as a practical woman who looks for allies rather then enemies." Oberyn answered as he poured himself a glass of Dornish red. He wondered if he should tell his brother about the threat Rebekah had given him but he thought against it. He wasn't even sure of Doran's plans for Jon Snow yet. Luckily the girl clearly cared a great deal about her cousin, and would therefore never make a true ally of either the Baratheons or the Lannisters. "What do you plan to do about Jon Snow?"

In response Doran literally shrugged, only to wince slightly as the movement caused his gout to flare up. "For years we have planned to place Viserys on the Iron Throne, but..." His brother trailed off.

"The boy is as mad as his father." Oberyn had actually met the boy, not that the beggar prince had actually known who he was, and he had been completely disappointed and even a little disturbed. It had taken the Defiance of Duskendale and the pressures of ruling Seven Kingdoms to drive Aerys mad but Viserys just seemed to be born twisted.

"Indeed, not even the Targaryens most loyal followers will fight to put a second mad King on the Iron Throne and I would never suffer my daughter to be married to such a monster." Doran spoke with complete loathing. At the time betrothing Arianne to Viserys had seemed like such a good idea, but now it striked Oberyn as the most stupid thing that they had done, apart from agreeing to marry Elia to Rhaegar in the first place. "But there is also Daenerys, what's your view on her?" Doran asked him.

"By all accounts a timid girl who lives under her brother's thumb, but," he paused for a moment, wondering the best way to word his thoughts. "She has a fire in her. Daenerys has the potential to be great but that doesn't mean that she will be great."

"Indeed, everyone thought Rhaegar would be a great King, and when the war started the rebellious houses thought that Robert would be a great King. Both have proven to be bitter disappointments."

"Perhaps that was our problem, believing in Kings." He stated taking a large gulp of his wine.

"You think I should have declared independence." Doran stated in an amused tone. For all intents and purposes Dorne was more of a sovereign nation rather then a vassal of the Iron Throne. The idea had also been suggested by more then a few of their bannermen and they traded more with Essos then the other kingdoms of Westeros. And it was also unlikely that the stags and lions would succeed where the dragons failed.

"It's crossed my mind, and I know that it's crossed yours as well." Oberyn stated as he finished draining his wine.

"Perhaps we would have been better off." Doran conceded, "Perhaps we wouldn't have been. Tell me about Jon Snow." It was not a question but an order.

"He seems a polite and well mannered boy, with none of the infamous Targaryen madness, which makes him better then Viserys." Not that that actually counted for much, their were cut throats in Flee Bottom that would be a better alternative than the second son of the Mad King. "He asked me about Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon you know." His brother only gave a slight widening of his eyes but he could see Doran's surprise. "Along with Queen Rhaella and anything I could tell him about Viserys or Daenerys."

"Not Rhaegar?" Doran questioned.

"The boy doesn't have a good opinion of his father." Oberyn answered with an amused smirk. He would be lying if he claimed that he didn't take a little joy about the fact that the last child of Rhaegar Targaryen didn't want anything to do with the silver prince.

"Good." Doran stated, feeling the same type of satisfaction about the low opinion Jon had for his father. "Will Lord Eddard raise the North for him?"

"Only if he has no choice. Though their relationship is strained Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark are still friends and Lord Eddard lost nearly his entire family to the Targaryens." Oberyn really couldn't picture the Warden of the North being to keen on the idea of a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne again. Truthfully Oberyn himself wasn't actually too keen on the idea of a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne again, but they were the best of a bad situation. Robert Baratheon was plunging the realm into greater debt then ever before, nearly four million gold dragons from the latest reports of his brothers spies. Also while the Baratheon family appeared secure, they were anything but. Stannis Baratheon had nothing but a sickly little girl that was inflicted with grayscale, while Renly was more interested in sticking his cock into the Tyrell boy, then a noble lady. And the less said about the all so _Lannister children_ of King Robert the better.

"Understandable." Doran muttered, his thoughts clearly on something else.

"What bothers you brother?" Oberyn asked as he drained the Dornish red and started to pour himself another. He offered Doran one but his brother shook his head.

"What do you know of the Euron Greyjoy, Oberyn?" Doran asked him and he couldn't help but actually shiver slightly. While he hated the Lannisters and Baratheons he didn't fear any of them, the Crow's Eye however was quite possibly the only man that the Red Viper truly feared, and it was with good reason.

"There's an old saying about the Greyjoy brothers," he began explaining, "Balon is mad, Aeron madder and the Grow's Eye is the maddest of them all. But he differs from his brothers in one key aspect, he isn't stupid."

"Suicidal?" Doran asked, further increasing the Vipers curiosity.

"Daring." He corrected to which his brother nodded. "Why the sudden interest in the Crow's Eye?" Oberyn doubted it was something as simple as the man targeting a couple of their trading vessels, the cadet brother of Balon Greyjoy rarely targeted such low value vessels.

"Because he attacked Dragonstone." Doran answered, causing him to choke on the wine he was drinking.

"What?" He asked his brother, wondering if he'd misheard. Say what you will of Stannis Baratheon he was an unrivalled military commander, attacking Dragonstone was practically suicide.

"With a small fleet made up of pirates and sellsails, as well as similar tactics that he used against the Lannister fleet during his brother's rebellion, he was able to destroy a large portion of the Royal Navy." That was good news, a weaker Baratheon fleet meant a weaker house Baratheon to kick off the Iron Throne.

"Do you know why he attacked Dragonstone?" Oberyn questioned.

"I don't know the reason why," Doran admitted. "But Euron Greyjoy personally scaled the walls of Dragonstone and killed Selyse Baratheon and captured her daughter Shireen." Doran explained causing Oberyn to wince slightly. Baratheon or not, Oberyn wouldn't wish anyone to suffer the Crow's Eye. Well, maybe Tywin Lannister.

"But there's something else isn't there?" He was still missing a piece of the information, a piece of the puzzle.

"Did you know that Euron Greyjoy delayed his brother's rebellion by nearly four years?" Doran asked again.

"Delayed? Clarify." He told his brother for answers. Doran had been more honest in this one day then he had been in the last decade, let's see if his brother would answer another question.

"Balon was more then ready to go to war after merely six years after the Usurper took the throne, but Euron convinced him to wait, though how he was able to I don't know." Oberyn couldn't deny that was an interesting fact, but also irrelevant. "And Euron also didn't agree with the plan to attack the Riverlands, instead he wished to target the North for unknown reasons."

That was certainly unusual, back then the North was only a step above the Iron Islands in terms of wealth, not comparable to the Riverlands and it was only in recent years that the North was actually starting to amass a comparable amount of wealth to the other kingdoms.

"And the Ironborn raid on the North after the war was over." Doran continued. "Balon may have given the order but Euron was the one who suggested trying to capture Rebekah Stark."

"Do you know what he wanted with her?" Oberyn doubted it was simply to have a valuable hostage to trade for his nephew. Hell Oberyn doubted that the Crow's Eye even cared about his nephew.

"Likely a similar reason to why he wants Shireen Baratheon, though why he wanted her is anyone's guess." Doran answered. _'More questions but no answers,'_ Oberyn thought frustrated, true the Crow's Eye wasn't actually his problem but if he was bold enough to attack Dragonstone then other Ironborn would follow his example. While Oberyn doubted it would result in another Greyjoy rebellion, it would certainly result in an increase of Ironborn raids, which for the past four years had been practically nonexistent.

"So what do we do my prince?" Oberyn asked, already knowing what Doran would say.

"We watch, and we wait." Doran answered and Oberyn held back a snort. _'I called it,'_ he thought snide fully. He wondered where Ellaria was, he needed a good fuck to calm himself down.

 **\- line break -**

 **Stannis POV**

Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone, rightful Lord of Storm's End and Master of Ships on the Small Council glared hatefully at the fat lump opposite him that he was forced to call his brother, who for the first time since Balon Greyjoy declared independence had decided to _grace_ the small council with his presence. The years had not been kind to his brother, Robert once stood at near seven feet tall and was once as strong as a bear, a warrior without equal, and possibly one of the most handsome and charming men in the Seven Kingdoms. Now however, he was as fat as he was tall with a massive belly that the seamstresses spent days labouring on clothes to hide, with a large bushy beard that failed to hide his multiple chins, and a flagon of wine was never far from his hand. The Demon of the Trident and the man who crushed the Targaryen dynasty was long gone, replaced by this fat blob.

The remaining members of the Small Council watched the exchange with mixed reactions. Their younger brother Renly watched them without a care in the world, as if a what had happened had absolutely no impact on Renly at all, a fact that nearly threw Stannis into a torrent of rage. His daughter, Renly's own niece, was the prisoner of Euron _fucking_ Greyjoy but his spoilt little brat of a younger couldn't care less, as long as it didn't effect him and his tiny little view of the world.

Varys, the Master of Whisperers, was as stoic and hard to read as usual, though the man seemed to possess genuine sympathy about what had happened to his wife and daughter. Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, possessed the same amused smirk that he always did. As long as it didn't affect his brothels and whores the man could care less about what happened to a daughter of some lord. Ser Barristan, Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd, though much more evident in his sympathy, was a lot like Varys and kept his face stoic and his thoughts hidden, his years serving the mad King had taught him no less. Grand Maester Pycelle looked as old and pathetic as always, looking just about ready to fall asleep.

And finally Jon Arryn, Hand of the King. Much like the King he served the years had not been kind to the old falcon, with most of his hair long gone, as well as many of his teeth, and the man was often plagued with aches and pains. _'The man shouldn't be Hand,'_ Stannis thought. Yes Jon Arryn was more then competent but he was old, very old. Being Hand to a good king was hard, to Robert the job was damn near impossible and it also didn't help the fact that Lord Arryn also had to handle ruling the Vale, with the only other members of the ancient house of Arryn being a sickly child and some nameless, forgotten nephew.

"What do you mean I am to remarry?" He demanded in a cold voice. Stannis shouldn't even be in Kings Landing, he should be leading what was left of the Royal Fleet to find his daughter, and to put Euron Greyjoy's head on a spike.

Robert let out a loud sigh of annoyance. "You need to marry, you need an heir Stannis. Lollys Stokeworth may be a bit dim but she's a looker, far better then that Florent woman you married." Robert stated with the same amount of tact he always used. _'Another marriage you arranged for me, during which you also dishonoured both me and my wife,'_ Stannis thought bitterly and very angry. True Stannis didn't love his wife, but she was still his wife and immediately after her murder, his brother expected him to remarry.

"I have an heir." He snapped out through gritted teeth as he glared at his brother.

"A disfigured little girl who's missing and most likely dead." Renly stated as he lounged relaxed in his chair.

"Keep your mouth shut Renly." Stannis immediately barked at his brother, who for once did what he was told and immediately sat up and went silent and Stannis turned to his elder brother. "And what are you going to do to Balon Greyjoy in response to his brother's actions?"

"I'm afraid Lord Stannis is that there's nothing we can do against Balon Greyjoy." Lord Arryn answered instead of Robert.

"And why not?" He demanded angrily. House Greyjoy should have stripped of all their lands, and all the adult Greyjoys executed for their countless crimes in piracy and slavery, instead of being pardoned like those damned Ironborn were innocent.

"Because Balon Greyjoy exiled his brother Euron from the Iron Islands nearly a year ago," Varys, the most mysterious member of the council answered him. "As a result he is in no way responsible for his brothers actions." Stannis couldn't help but grind his teeth at the Spider's words. That was not something that he wanted to hear.

"We've already set out a warning to all lords about Euron Greyjoy as well as placed a bounty on his head." Robert told him. "Do not worry brother, that blasted pirate will be brought to justice."

Stannis simply let out a small bitter laugh that was devoid of amusement at his brother's words. "Half of the Free Cities have placed a bounty on his head, the blasted Iron Bank offers no less then 200,000 Gold Dragons for his capture, dead or alive." He snapped at his brother.

"Well what would you have me do?" Robot yelled in return. "Like it or not Euron Greyjoy is more then likely hiding in Essos at the moment where we have few allies, and that's not the only problem. A third of our fleet has been destroyed and you need to rebuild it. Besides, this event has shown that our family is not as strong as it appears and should the worst happen we need to ensure that the next generation of Baratheons are secure." Stannis hated the logic in his brother's words, both Dragonstone, and Storm's End considering Renly's preferences, needed heirs and even if he found Shireen she couldn't rule both.

"No." He stated and that one word sent shocks throughout the Small Council. After all, while Lord Stannis was known to disagree with his brother he never, ever disobeyed him.

"No?" Robert asked for clarification, sure he had misheard his brother.

"No. I'll wed the Stokeworth girl but I will not abandon my daughter to Euron Greyjoy." He stated in a way that left no room for disagreements. But that never stopped Robert before.

"You are the Master of Ships Lord Stannis. It's your job to maintain the Royal Fleet and handle shipping matters, not chasing renegade pirates around the world." Robert stated but the words meant nothing to him and Robert could see that as well. "You will do your job or I will find me a master of ships who will." Robert attempted threatening but again the tactic didn't work.

"Then consider this why resignation." Stannis stated and he turned to leave the small council chambers.

"Leave this room then I will make Mace Tyrell Master of Ships." Robert bellowed against his retreating form and it almost made him stop in anger. It was a ploy and an obvious one but that didn't stop the a surge of anger flowing through him. Stannis hated the fat flower of Highgarden but in the end not even that stopped him from continuing on his way. _'I promise you Shireen, I will find you,'_ Stannis vowed.

 **\- line break -**

 **Qyburn POV**

Maester Qyburn stared at the man opposite him with thinly viewed annoyance. "Consider this matter over, Mr Deron." He spoke giving the man an unworthy glance. The man was a smith from White Harbour that Lady Rebekah had located and sent to the Compound, believing that he would be of use, but it seemed that in this matter she was wrong.

"Now that's not fair." Deron snapped angrily at him. Like most smiths Deron was large and bulky, and also quick to anger, not that Qyburn had any reason to fear the smith, after all attack him and then Deron would be truly damned. The presence of the two guards in his office as well as the four standing outside the door also removed any reason of fear.

"Isn't it?" He asked the man in amusement. "Lady Stark gave you a stipend of silver and gold in order to full fill your task but rather then use that money for its purpose you chose to squander it. If you had spent the money on your family it would be understandable but instead you spent it in brothels and taverns." Qyburn let the silence fill the air for a few moments as the man acknowledged the consequences of his actions.

"And what's to happen to me now then, death?" The man demanded of him, causing one of the guards, a new employment, to twitch slightly. He made a note to keep an eye on that guard, there were many secrets held in the compound and he couldn't risk those secrets being revealed by a wet behind the ears guardsman.

"Your only crimes are incompetence and laziness, hardly anything that will earn you the executioners axe." He reassured he man who relaxed slightly knowing that his life wasn't in any immediate danger.

"That still doesn't answer the question. What's to be done with me?" Deron asked of him.

"I will not suffer your presence in the compound, you can either join the construction workers at Moat Cailin or return to being a blacksmith in White Harbour. It's your choice." He told the man.

Deron was silent for a few moments as he considered his options. "I'll return to White Harbour." He answered.

"A horse and supplies will be provided to you." He told the man who nodded his thanks and then left, leaving Qyburn with his work.

As Qyburn looked over the reports from the latest shippings, he couldn't help but marvel at the success of the new port. It was hard to believe that in nearly four years that the harbour could have been built to such an extent, and while it was nowhere near the size or success of White Harbour, the Stark Harbour was without catching up. But truthfully the Starks needed this harbour, especially with the recent revelation that had spread throughout the North in the past few months. Half the North was covered in mountains, mountains that were now being mined by many of the Northern lords. Mines that was providing large quantities of valuable metal oars, and even silver in the cases of the Umbers and Ryswells, but no one expected there to be any gold veins in those mountains, how wrong they were. And it was the worst possible house for the Starks that found and claimed what was likely the only gold mine in the North. The Boltons of the Dreadfort.

The Lord of the Dreadfort may respect his liege Lord but that didn't mean he was loyal, and if Qyburn's suspicions were true then Tywin Lannister was providing Roose Bolton with skilled miners and workers straight from Casterly Rock itself. Truthfully Tywin Lannisters actions weren't surprising, the Lannisters may be the richest house in Westeros, but the Westerlands weren't the most powerful kingdom in Westeros. Truthfully that honour belonged to the Reach, capable of amassing up to a hundred thousand men along with the largest fleet that existed on both sides of the Narrow Sea. Qyburn also knew the Lannisters weren't happy with the North growing in power, especially the new trading and betrothal agreements between the North and Dorne. Funding the Norths second most powerful house that possessed a history of rising against their Stark overlords was the logical decision.

That was actually one of the main reasons for the orders that Lady Rebekah had given him just before she and her bastard brother left the compound on a ship heading for Seaguard. House Bolton was growing in power and so she had ordered him to weaken their power in the North, something that he was already achieving. Barbrey Dustin, known for her enmity against the Starks would be the first to join Roose Bolton if he ever rose against them. Ramsey Snow, Roose Bolton's bastard son was a safety net for a lack of better word in case anything happened to his true born son Domeric.

Ironically enough dealing with Lady Dustin was actually proving to be easier then Ramsey Snow, as Lord Bolton kept his bastard well protected. Barbrey Dustin was a thoroughly unpleasant woman who despite her many years as being lady of Barrowton had made few friends in the stronghold. It had been unbelievably easy to reach out to the Maester of Barrowton, a man who had been on the receiving end of Lady Dustin's rage more then once, and had no problem slipping a few drops of weak poison into her food, slowly killing her. Ironically enough if Barbrey actually bothered consulting any maester at all then she would be easily cured, but her own beliefs were simply nailing in her coffin.

Dealing with Ramsey however was more challenging and Qyburn had decided to settle for the long game. He sent people throughout the North with whispers of the bastard of the Dreadfort and his infamous actions. It would awhile before the Northern lords were aware of Ramsey and even longer before they were aware of the extent of his actions but sooner or later the entire North would know of him and Roose Bolton would have no choice but to bring his bastard son to justice.

Truthfully Qyburn didn't actually like killing people, it was a necessary evil. After all the North was changing but sometimes in order to usher in the new, the old had to be put to rest. After all, they were hardly the first people he had arranged to be killed and he doubted they would be the last.

Putting down one of the reports he picked up a Raven scroll from Olenna Tyrell. _'Another one,'_ he thought with exasperation. It was rather well known that he held the confidence of Rebekah Stark and many key players of the South had attempted to recruit him to their own benefit. It was like they had nothing better to do then to play their never ending game of thrones. In fact the only reason he even entertained these ravens was because Lady Rebekah ordered it. Rebekah was fascinated with the Reach and she was eager to gain more information on it, a task she had given to him and a few key others. Rebekah wanted to know the strength of every Lord in the Reach, how wealthy they were, and where they're loyalties lied.

Qyburn didn't understand her fascination with the Reach, true it was practically a power house in terms of military strength but that wasn't the answer. He was missing a piece of information, something the maester didn't know. But he would find out.

 **\- line break -**

 **Eddard POV**

EddardStark Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North watched in pride from the top of Winterfell at Winter Town, something that in a few decades would become and official city if it's progress and development was kept at the same rate. Ned knew of his reputation as an honourable fool, and while not necessarily wrong he was by no means a stupid man. He knew many _southerners_ and even a few of his own bannermen considered him a fool for naming his daughter as his heir but he would have the last laugh as he knew that Rebekah would be a ruler that the North would be proud of.

Hell, Winter Town was as much proof of his daughter's capabilities as the Stark Compound was. Truthfully it was almost hard to recognise what it used to be. One way that Rebekah changed Winter Town was with a sanitation system, using the hot springs that were located beneath Winterfell and its surrounding lands Rebekah built an underground piping system that washed away all the filth and shit.

But one thing that Rebekah built, something that was truly foreign to Westeros and Essos, was a hospital. A healing house that was open to both the commoners and the Northern lords and it had become famous throughout the North to the extent that Lord Manderly had also commissioned for one to be built in White Harbour. The hospital wasn't staffed by Maesters, in fact according to Maester Luwin many of the Archmaesters of the Citidal had found the very concept of the hospital insulting. In order to fill up the hospital Rebekah had hired a dozen healers from Essos, one of the most skilled of which being Talisa Maegyr. Upon learning that his granddaughter had found a life for herself as a healer in the North, Malaquo Maegyr, one of the three ruling Triarchs of Volantis, had taken a great interest in the North, resulting in a trade agreement between the North and one of the most powerful and wealthy of the Free Cities where before none existed.

But it wasn't just his daughter who had contributed to the development of the North. His goodfather Hoster Tully had found several fruits and seeds from Essos that he had attempted to plant in the Riverlands but the soil was to wet for them so he had instead sent them North. Now many northern farmers grew spinach and cauliflower, and while they admittedly weren't the nicest of foods they helped keep the North fed. Wyman Manderly also contributed, the man had sent a few trading vessels to Yi Ti out of curiosity for the strange land and had returned with a type of food that was fascinating. Rice. While on its own it was rather plain, when mixed with Dornish spices Ned found it to be absolutely delicious.

An urgent nocking at his door startled Ned from his thoughts. "Come in." He called out and Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel entered his solar. "Ser Rodrik, Jory." He greeted warmly but he immediately noticed the disturbed looks on their faces. "What is it?" He asked, put a little on guard by their expressions.

"There was a message my lord Stark, from Skagos." Ser Rodrik explained, causing Ned to tense. He had tried to build better ties with the Magnars of Skagos but he had been largely unsuccessful, but he had managed to get a representative on the island to try and build ties between the island and the mainland.

"What is it?" Ned asked again, worrying about what the news could be. By the way that the two in front of him were acting it clearly wasn't anything good.

"Your emissary Lord Stark, they've sent us his head." Jory answered.

 **End of chapter 5. Please review.**

 **Sorry about the lack of Jon and Rebekah but don't worry the next chapter will focus on the two of them.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Eddard POV**

Eddard repeatably cursed those Skagosi in his mind. They hadn't just killed his emissary, a man who had served his family since his father Rickard was Lord of Winterfell, but they had also launched a sneak attack on Karhold. Luckily the Karstarks were more then used to attacks from wildlings and Skagosi, and Lord Rickard was a more then competent commander and he'd been able to repel the attack, though not without losses. Both Rickard Karstarks uncle Anolf and his cousin Cregan were killed in the assault.

He was standing in Rickard's solar in Karhold with Wylis Manderly, Greatjon Umber, Roose Bolton, and the Lord of Karhold himself. Bolton, Umber and Karstark were chosen for their close proximity to Skagos, as well as revenge in Rickards case. Wylis was present because the Manderly fleet would be used to ferry their troops to Skagos.

There were three thousand Stark and Bolton men each, two and a half thousand Karstark men, two thousand Umber men, and one and a half thousand men from White Harbour. Twelve thousand men in total and more then enough to bring Skagos to heal. The actions committed by the three Magnars of Skagos angered him more then he could possibly believe. Yes relations between Skagos and the main land had never been good, and Ned knew that many of the islands inhabitants weren't pleased with his 'meddlings', but he hadn't forced them to change their traditions, he hadn't forced the magnars to bend the knee and swear fealty, but that may have been part of the problem. Ned had forgotten what the word Magnar meant in the Old Tongue. King.

"The Manderly fleet had blockaded Skagos, preventing them escaping and from seeking allies from beyond the Wall." Ned statd as he assessed the situation while staring at a map of the North laid out in front of him.

"Do we have any ideas of their numbers?" Wylis asked. After all, it was without question that they outnumbered the Skagosi, but the question was by how much.

"We don't know their exact numbers but considering the size of the island, and reports of its population I would put their numbers at around 3,000." Ned answered the heir of White Harbour.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Rickard demanded angrily, his rage clouding his judgement. "We outnumber them four to one and we have the island surrounded. Lets attack hard and fast and leave the island in ruins." Ned did not like the approval that crossed the faces of the other lords at Rickards words. True he had no love for Skagos but the idea of wiping out the island and its inhabitants just didn't sit right with him.

"Rickard's right." The Greatjon stated loudly. "The Skagosi are like wildlings, good warriors but not soldiers." Ned couldn't help think that, that was the closest thing to a compliment that an Umber had ever given wildlings. "Can they hold a shield wall? Repel a cavalry charge? No, they can't. Unorganised and undisciplined, and we have better armour and weapons. So what are we waiting for?" The Greatjon asked.

"Because this won't be like the last two times we went to war, or our previous encounters with wildlings and Skagosi." Roose Bolton staed in his quiet voice, but Ned was pretty sure that he could here traces of annoyance in Bolton's voice. Umbers and Boltons, though not necessarily enemies, the two families were by no means friends. "There are no castles to capture and to lay siege to, and we'll be dealing with an army of what is basically wildlings, not a raiding party that numbers a dozen." By the time that Roose had finished speaking, Ned was in nod doubt about the patronising tone of his voice, and by the way Greatjon clenched his fists he detected it as well.

"So what do you suggest Lord Bolton?" Wylis demanded of the Lord of the Dreadfort. Though he was loyal, Wylis, and by extension his father and brother, weren't warriors and soldiers. Their true value to the North was their port and their wealth, not their skills in warfare.

"Lord Bolton is right, and so are you Lord Umber." Ned answered instead of Roose. "If we attack hard and fast then they'll retreat further in land and use the terrain to their advantage." Guerrilla warfare was a bitch to fight against and required both time and wealth to combat, neither of which Ned could afford to waste.

"So what do you suggest Lord Stark?" Greatjon asked respectively. Though brash and occasionally acting with little thought, the Lord of Last Hearth respected his liege lord a great deal.

"We need to attack them on multiple fronts and surround them." Ned answered as he pointed to Skagos on the map. "The Manderly fleet will land our forcres on these three shores. The bulk of their forcs are on this shore here," Ned stated, pointing at said shore, "Me and Lord Rickard will take our forces and engage them in battle. Ser Wylis and Lord Umber will land their forces on this shore here, while Lord Bolton lands on this shore. While me and Rickard engage their forces, you three will capture the island. Understand?" He asked them to which they all nodded.

Rickard was mere then a little pleased about the chance to avenge himself on the Skagosi, though the Greatjon was feeling a little miffed about the fact that he would be absent from the major battle. But he respected and acknowledged that Ned's knowledge of warfare was superior to his own, and if he ordered him there then the Greatjon would go there.

A loud horn drew all the lords attentions and a few moments later a guard dressed in Karstark colours burst into the war room. "Pardon m'lords," the guard spoke bowing respectively. "But our scouts reported a large host of men heading towards he castle."

"Skagosi?" Rickard spat in question.

"No my lord, they're arriving from the east." The guardsman answered, piquing their interest.

"Are they carrying a sigil?" Ned asked the guard.

"Yes Lord Stark, a bear on a green field."

"Mormont." Ser Wylis stated in surprise, something that was mirrored by the other lords present. There was quite a distance between Bear Island and Karhold, Maege would have had to march her forces day and night without rest in order to reach Karhold. But the question was why? Despite the atrocious actions of her nephew, Ned didn't doubt Maege's loyalty. Hell Maege was more disgusted by Jorah's actions then anyone, but that didn't change the fact that Maege didn't need to bring her forces, which meant that their was another reason.

"Send Lady Maege here when she arrives." Ned ordered the guard and bowed before leaving.

"So, why do you think the She Bear's here?" Rickard asked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Ha, knowing her she heard about the battle and couldn't risk the opportunity to show off." The Greatjon suggested while laughing, causing the lords, minus Roose, to let out a few chuckles.

For the next ten minutes while the five lords waited for Maege to arrive, they spent that time planning, and re-planning the strategies to use against the Skagosi. If there was one thing the gathered lords, all proven war veterans, knew it was that in war every plan more often then not went to complete shit. After the ten minutes the very same guard led Maege, along with her oldest two daughters Dacey and Alysane ino the war room.

Maege was a short, stout, grey haired woman in her early fifties, not that it affected her strength, and she was a ferocious warrior that had few equals in the North. She was currently dressed in patched ring mail with a spiked mace strapped to her waist. Alysane looked like a younger version of her mother, and was in her early twenties and had a sword strapped to her waist as opposed to her mother and sister who favoured more destructive weapons. Dacey however was a large contrast to her mother and sister in appearance. The heiress of Bear Island was neither short nor stout, standing at near six feet tall and like her sister Alysane, Dacey was in her early twenties. She was also more attractive then her mother and sister, and wielded a morning star. Both of Maeges eldest daughters had fought in the Greyjoy rebellion so he had little doubt about their skill in arms.

"Lord Stark." Maege proclaimed loudly as she bent to her knees, with her daughters following her example.

"Stop polishing Rickard's floors and stand up Maege." Ned ordered with a smile, causing the she bear to let out a booming laugh as she enveloped her Lord in a bone crushing hug. If she hugged him any harder then Ned was sure that he wouldn't have been able to fight in the coming battle due to a broken rib. Or three.

"So Maege, what brings you here you old hag?" Greatjon asked her once she released their liege lord, and rather be insulted Maege let out a booming laugh before she turned serious.

"Ironborn." The way she spoke showed her opinion of the pirate like people. An opinion that everyone present shared. "Ever since Euron fucking Greyjoy attacked Dragonstone the number of Ironborn ships spotted by my scouts has tripled, and though there hasn't been any raids yet, it's only a matter of time, and my forces are far too green and inexperienced. They need a good blooding, and my daughters could do with the experience." Maege finished pointing a thumb at her two daughters behind her. If Ned remembered correctly Maeges daughters had only been involved in minor skirmishes during the Greyjoy rebellion as opposed to any of the major battles.

"We'll take every man, and woman," Ned told her. "That you have for the battle."

"Good. Now what are you lot planning to do with those fuckers?" Maege asked clapping her hands together.

 **\- line break -**

 **Theon POV**

Theon stood on the deck of a ship, 'The Direwolves Howl', that was personally commanded by Lord Stark. He could see the island of Skagos in the distance and Theon couldn't resist the smirk that crossed his face. On the Iron Islands you weren't considered a man until you killed a man, and while Theon had killed wildling raiders before, he'd never fought in an actual battle before.

Theon knew he was arrogant and impulsive, but he wasn't stupid and thanks to Rebekah, though he was loath to admit it, he knew that his position was the Heir of the Iron Islands was in no way as secure as he had thought. He hadn't wanted to believe Rebekah at first, about how his father favoured his sister Yara over him, but after talking to several merchants and traders, a couple who were even from the Iron Islands, he could no longer deny what he had been told. As a result Theon, though he loathed doing it, had spent a lot of his time in the Winterfell library, researching the Iron Islands.

The North did not have a fond opinion of the Iron Islands, considering the way the books criticised his peoples tradition and history, but there was one thing clear in all the books, the Iron Born only respected strength. If he ever wanted to be Lord of Pyke then he had to prove himself strong, and this battle was the perfect chance.

As they got closer to Skagos Theon couldn't help but glance at Lord Stark. Truthfully Theon's thoughts towards Lord Stark were very conflicted. On the one hand the he had played a large part in his fathers downfall, and Theon knew that no matter what anyone said he was a hostage. But on the other hand the man had raised him, cared for him and while he didn't necessarily see Lord Stark as a father figure, he did see him as an uncle of sorts. He was a hell of a lot better then any of his true uncles, not that their was much competition. Rodrik cared only for his books, Victorian for his battles and Aeron for his faith. And the less said about his uncle Euron the better.

"Nervous Theon?" Lord Stark asked as they neared Skagos.

"Ha, ha, nope Lord Stark." Theon replied confidently, ignoring the look in Eddard's eyes.

Lord Stark chuckled a little at his words. "I was the same before the Battle of the Bells, certain of victory no matter what."

"You speak as if we're going to lose." Theon questioned suspiciously, feeling confused. "We outnumber them more then two to one." Basic maths suggested that the largest army won.

"War never goes as planned Theon. One day you'll be Lord of the Iron Islands and in the event that you lead men into war you need to understand that. Hope for the best but prepare for the worst because that is all you can do in war Theon." Theon couldn't help but stare at Lord Stark, his words giving him a strong dose of reality.

"Thank you Lord Stark." Theon said honestly as he and Lord Stark returned to staring intently at the Island. There was no port or harbour on Skagos and so that they'll have to use longboats to reach the beach. Theon could just make out the Skagosi army on the beach, and he fingered the sword strapped to his waist eagerly.

"Halt the ship and lay anchor." Lord Stark bellowed and the 'Direwolves Howl' halted to a stop, with the other ships in the Manderly fleet following its example. "Prepare the longboats." Lord Stark ordered and about a dozen men on the ship did as ordered. Once the longboats were ready Lord Stark stood at the front of the ship and raised Ice, the fucking massive valyrian steel great sword of House Stark and bellowed, "Come with me and take this Island." Stark's proclamation was met with a resounding cheer as all the men drew their swords and followed Lord Stark into the longboats, Theon included.

Despite his highborn status Theon found himself rowing the boat he was on, along with seven other men to the beach. "Heave. Heave. Heave." Someone kept bellowing and more then one Theon resisted the urge to tell the cunt to shut himself up. Theon felt his arms beginning to ache and he couldn't help but acknowledge that rowing a longboat, even with so many other men, was no easy task, and the waves and the rowing caused the water to splash everywhere, completely soaking him.

Rowing, rowing, rowing, until finally the longboat reached the shore of the beach. _'Finally, time for battle,'_ He thought as he got off the boat and drew his sword, only to duck as an axe was swung at his head by an absolutely massive Skagosi, as fucking tall and looked just as strong as the Greatjon, dressed in stitched together fur. Ducking under another swing of the axe Theon slashed at the wildling with his sword. Unfortunately for the heir of the Iron Islands luck wasn't on his side as his opponent moved with a speed that should have been impossible considering size, and proceeded to slam his sword with the axe, the resulting force causing Theon to drop his sword.

"Shit." Theon muttered as he faced his enemy unarmed, except for the bow strapped to his back and the dagger on his belt. Theon kept backing up into the sea to avoid the swinging axe, before he tripped up and fell into the ocean. The wildling raised his axe above his head and Theon, moving with a speed he didn't realise himself capable of, drew the dagger from his belt and rushed at his opponent, driving the knife through his neck before he could bring the axe down on him.

Theon couldn't help but look around him in shock. Their army was still at the shore of the beach, only just getting off the longboats when the Skagosi attacked them. _'This isn't how it should be,'_ Theon thought confused at the battle. The Skagos army wasn't at the shore of the beach, it was further in land, they must have rushed to the shore and engaged them directly, but why? Yes it gave them an early advantage but by waiting they would have been able to hail arrows on their army, causing them to lose countless men attempting to reach them. Proof that the Skagosi didn't fight with conventional tactics Theon realised.

Shaking himself from his thoughts Theon withdrew the bow on his back and knotted the arrow, his brief encounter with his opponent showing his skill with a blade was sum what lacking. Pulling back the string and then releasing it Theon smirked as he watched the arrow fly straight into the eye of a Skagosi who was rushing towards him, killing him instantly. Knotting another arrow he released it into another enemy, saving the life of a man in Karstark colours who didn't see the man coming up behind him.

For a long time the battle remained just like that for Theon, standing near the edge of the battlefield , picking off his enemies one by one with a bow an arrow. His skills with a sword may only be average but he was one of the best archers in Winterfell and he was putting his skill to good use. Until a voice called across the battle field, drawing his attention.

"STARK." A loud voice bellowed. Theon looked towards the man speaking. He had long thick blonde hair and looked nearly as big as the Greatjon. He also carried a massive hooked scythe in his hands that was coated with blood.

"Weeper." Lord Stark spat back, his voice filled with more loathing then Theon had ever heard from the man before. Lord Stark cut an imposing figure dressed in boiled leather armour and with his Valyrian steel great-sword Ice in his hands. Theon remembered scoffing about the fact that Lord Stark was using such a ridiculously large weapon in battle, but the sight of a dozen bodies at Lord Stark's fee and the fact that Lord Stark and his sword was absolutely drenched in blood showed the man's skill with the weapon.

"I admit that I didn't expect your cowardly southerner ass to ever have the guts to attack us." The _Weeper_ yelled as he swung the scythe with an impossible speed at the quiet wolf. But despite the speed that the Weeper moved with Ned Stark was able to duck under the scythe and swung Ice at the Weeper, only for the attack to be blocked.

"And that was your mistake Weeper." Eddard snapped at him. "In order to build ties I was willing to look over your past crimes, but rather then take the opportunity you chose to attack the North, and for that you will die." Despite the battle raging around him Theon couldn't tare his eyes away from the two warriors, it revealing a side of Ned Stark that he had never seen. Snapping out of his thoughts Theon knotted another arrow and aimed at the two warriors trying to get a clear shot, but he just couldn't. The two moved too fast and Theon couldn't take the chance that he'd hit Lord Stark.

"It'll be you that dies Stark." The Weeper growled back as he dodged an attack from Lord of Winterfell. "And after I kill you I'll take your daughters as my sluts, fucking them until there's nothing left and then I'll let every man in my army have a go at them. Imagine the sight, the proud and noble daughters of Lord Eddard Stark turned into sex slaves." The man finished with a dark laugh and Theon saw Eddard falter slightly.

"You know I was going to give you a quick death, Weeper, but for that, for threatening my daughters, I will make you suffer, and you'll be begging for death before I kill you." Eddard vowed in a deadly cold voice that actually sent a shiver down his spine.

Eddard and the Weeper attacked each other again and Theon saw two Skagosi rushing at the two, and he launched two arrows at them, killing them both as well as any other enemy that tried attacking Lord Stark.

HHHOOOOWWWWLLLLL.

Theon looked towards the source of the sound. It seemed to be the mix of a roar and a howl and came from a freakishly large beast. It looked like a wolf, but it as too large, even from the distance that it was at, Theon could easily tell that it was the size of a horse. A freakishly large wolf with grey fur and that was running towards Lord Stark at a speed that no horse could match.

Theon reached for another arrow from his quiver only to find he had run out of arrows. _'Oh shit,'_ Theon thought as the wolf gave a massive leap into the air and he hoped that someone else managed to kill the blasted thing.

 **\- line break -**

 **Jon POV**

Jon rode alongside Rebekah as they traveled through the Riverlands, only a few days ago having been at the ancient and ruined fortress of Harrenhall. It had been an imposing sight and a permanent reminder of the folly of the Ironborn. But it had confused Jon greatly that even after the fall of the Targaryen regime it was still a ruin. True it would cost a fortune to restore to even a fraction of its former glory, but its location was both strategically and economically invaluable with the surrounding lands being some of the most prosperous in the Riverlands.

Jon couldn't help but glance at Rebekah who rode on a horse alongside him, humming a tune as she was deep in thought. Jon tried not to stare at his cousin as he tried to determine his feeling for her but he couldn't help it. She was a very beautiful woman. Traders and merchants often praised the beauty of Margaery Tyrell and Queen Cersei but Jon had no doubt that Rebekah could easily match them. With soft features, alluring eyes and flowing dark hair she was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her developed body and very form fitting clothes were also were very distracting Jon thought as he pulled his eyes from his cousin so she wouldn't notice.

Jon was smart enough to acknowledge that he was attracted to his sister, and he hated himself for the way that he constantly reminded himself that she was in reality his cousin. But still Rebekah had been raised as his sister, and was his sister in all but blood, and it was wrong. _'Not that it stopped my ancestors,'_ A small treacherous part of his mind thought.

"You're brooding," Rebekah spoke in a song like voice.

"I am not brooding." Jon defended himself, even though he was actually doing just that.

Rebekah just snorted at his words. "You brood like an eighty year old lady."

"Oh, so I'm an eighty year old lady now?" Jon asked back with a large smile.

"Yep." She replied popping the P. "Not that it seemed to bother aunt Lysa." Rebekah said mischievously, causing Jon to shudder at the mention of her aunt. While travelling the Riverlands they had stopped at Riverrun and by pure luck, or perhaps bad luck, Lysa Arryn had decided to visit her family in Riverrun. Why that shrill full woman had decided to visit her family when it was clear as day that she loathed them Jon didn't know but she had and if you believed the guards it was so she wouldn't have to suffer her husband in Kings Landing.

But still, the way that woman looked at him actually scared him. It wasn't hatred, hatred he could deal with. At first he didn't know how to describe the way she looked at him but by the time they left Riverrun he had no doubt about it. She lusted after him, and the thing that proved it was when she had taken her breasts out to feed her son, who was _six_ years old, and gave him what she must have thought was a charming smile, when in reality she simply looked constipated, and asked him if he would like to feed from her as well. Jon didn't think he had ever ran so fast in his life. And worst of all was that Rebekah had found the entire situation hilarious.

"You know I was tempted to give her the keys to your room." Rebekah stated, causing him to groan.

"Please stop Rebekah, your giving me nightmares." Rebekah just laughed.

After riding for a bit more they stopped to water the horses at a lake, but not just any lake. In she distance Jon could just make out the Isle of the Faces. There was a lot rumours about the Isle, even deep in the North. It was a place surrounded in mystery, and many people were known to visit the Isle. It was said that before conquering Westeros, and again before his death that Aegon the first Targaryen had visited the Isle. It was even rumoured that before the Battle of the Trident where he met his end that Rhaegar Targaryen had also visited the Isle.

"Your curious about it." Rebekah stated as she smoothed her horse.

"Aren't you?" He asked her.

"Yep." She answered before looking over his shoulder and he noticed her eyes widening in alarm. "Get your sword now." Looking behind him Jon saw five riders heading in their direction, and he quickly withdrew his sword from where it was strapped to on the horse.

Once the five riders reached them Jon saw that they all bared the sigil of House Frey on the their clothes. They were a far way from the Twins. "Where are you heading?" Who Jon assumed was their leader asked. Like most members of House Frey he had the classical weasel like looks, unlike most members of his family however Jon could see intelligence and cunning in his eyes.

"Harrenhal." Rebekah answered. Unlike him she wasn't holding a sword but he could make out a concealed dagger in each of her hands.

"Why Harrenhal?" Their leader asked.

"We have business at Riverrun, we're stopping at Harrenhal for suplies." It took Jon a minute to realise what Rebekah was doing. Relations between Riverrun and the Twins were tense, their respective lords holding nothing but disdain for each other. There was no way for the Freys to prove Rebekah wrong, and if they did take her to Riverrun Lord Tully would more then likely put them in chains for attacking his granddaughter.

"What business could you possibly have with Lord Tully?" The Frey demanded.

"Our business is our own." Rebekah snapped back at them.

"You're a far way from the Twins." Jon stated, speaking for the first time as he pointedly looked at the sigil he bared.

"And you two are a far way from the North." He snapped back. "Do you know what I think?"

"Don't know and don't care." Rebekah snarked back at the man, causing his eyes to twitch in anger.

"I think you two are thieves and poachers-."

"Coming from a member of House Frey that really ironic." Jon was starting to get really alarmed by what Rebekah was doing and he tightened his grip on his sword just in case.

"And in the name of King Robert and Lord Hoster Tully you two are under arrest."

"No chance Black Walder." Rebekah replied with complete loathing as hurled her twin daggers at the Frey guards, or more accurately their horses. Rebekah's aim was true and and the daggers embedded themselves into two of the horses eyes, killing. Without wasting a second she grabbed the dagger that was on his belt and launched it at the third horse, leaving only one horse left. The man on the last horse charged at them drawing his sword. He was swung his sword at Jon but the attempt was sloppy, and he easily dodged under the slash, and he was able to stab his sword at the man, his sword going right through the man's stomach, killing him.

Jon didn't have a chance to acknowledge the fact that he had just killed someone, the first time he had ever killed someone as Black Walder started attacking him with Jon only just able to hold off his attacks. After several parries and blows Jon was able to slash his sword downwards, cutting Black Walder from shoulder to stomach.

"No please have mercy, have mercy." One of Freys guards begged for mercy as Rebekah stood over him, with a sword at his throat. His pleas for mercy however had no effect on Rebekah as she drove the sword through his neck.

"He surrendered." Jon stated, staring at Rebekah in shock as she turned to look at him. Her eyes, they were emotionless, no compassion or mercy in them. Jon knew that Rebekah could be ruthless, but being aware of it was one thing, actually witnessing it was quite another.

"And I didn't accept." Rebekah stated coldly as she walked towards him, stepping over the body of Black Walder.

"You didn't have to kill him." Jon snapped at her angrily.

"And what would you have had me do? Put him in chains? Take him to Riverrun? My grandfather would have likely executed him for attacking us, as would most of the Riverlords. Maybe he would have taken the Black, or maybe he would have chosen death over it. In the end it really doesn't matter." Concentrating on each other Jon didn't see Black Walder twitching, or reaching for a knife.

Jon did however see him pull Rebekah to the floor and drive his knife through her stomach, again and again. Jon reacted instinctively. He slashed his sword and took off Black Walder's head. Crouching down next to Rebekah Jon urgently placed his hands on her wounds, applying pressure. Jon was no maester or healer but he knew enough to know that when someone was badly injured you needed to put pressure on her wounds. "Come on Repekah, stay awake." Jon spoke encouragingly to her as he slowly lifted up her tunic, revealing no less then five stab wounds. "Shit."

He slowly rolled the tunic down, causing her to gasp in pain. "Sorry," He told her, drawing his attention from her wounds to her face and he was shocked by what he saw. Rebekah's normally blue eyes had changed colour to red, while the whites of her eyes had darkened to the point that they looked black, while she had some very prominant veins under her eyes now. Pulling his eyes away from her face Jon concentrated instead on the matter at hand, her injury.

There was no way that Jon could treat those injuries on his own. He could bandage them but he had no way of preventing infection. She needed a professional, but there was none nearby. It was nearly a two days ride to Harrenhal and she wouldn't make it. There was only one place, Jon realised as he looked straight ahead of him.

The Isle of the Faces.

 **\- line break -**

 **Davos POV**

Davos stood alongside Lord Stannis as the two of them spoke to Salladhor Saan. He could tell that Stannis hated being in the presence of his old friend, in fact he was almost spurised by the fact that Lord Stannis hadn't attempted to imprison or execute Salladhor. Davos knew from personal experience how Stannis dealt with criminals. "So you mean to tell me that you have no idea where he is." Stannis demanded angrily from the pirate lord.

"Salladhor Saan has told you all he knows, that the Greyjoys fleet has scattered to Pentos, Lys, Myr and even to Slavers Bay, but the Crow's Eye's ship is not among them." Salladhor defended himself, causing Lord Stannis to grit his teeth and Davos noticed his hands clenching in anger and decided to interfere.

"Is there anything else you can tell us Salla, maybe an idea of where he went, or perhaps knowledge of someone who might know where he's gone?" Davos questioned before Stannis lost his temper and attempted to take Salladhor's head. He could tell merely being in the pirates presence angered his lord a great deal.

"No Davos," Salla stated before he turned to Stannis. "I know it probably means nothing to you my lord but I am truly sorry for you daughter." Stannis merely nodded in return and he and Lord Stannis returned to the castle while Salladhor returned to his ship.

"Well, that was pointless." Stannis snapped as they walked to the castle. His lord had possessed a level of fury that Davos had never seen when they had learnt about the attack on Dragonstone, not that the former smuggler could blame him. Shireen was the most sweet and innocent girl that Davos had ever met, and now she was the prisoner of quite possibly the most feared Iron Born alive. He knew that Lord Stannis was a hard and unfeeling man, but the kidnapping of his daughter had affected the man greatly. For all Lord Stannis' faults, he loved his daughter greatly. As for what had happened to Lady Selyse, well although she was an unpleasant woman, and that was probably the kindest possible way to describe her, she didn't deserve what had happened to her.

"We may not have learnt about where Euron is heading but we now have the names and locations of those who helped him." Davos pointed out, and while the chances were slim it was possible that those who helped Euron may know where he was heading.

"Tell me about the state of our ships?" Stannis instead asked.

"We have a dozen war galleys ready to pursue the Ironborn." Davos answered the middle Baratheon brother. "Maned by experienced sailors and soldiers from the lords of the Narrow and Sea and several of the Storm Lords." Stannis merely grunted in response, deep in thought and only half paying attention. "If I may ask m'lord,"

"My lord." Stannis automatically corrected.

"My lord. Why did you get rid of all the Florent guards?" One of the first things that Stannis had done when he had returned to Dragonstone was ship all the Florent guards back to Brightwater Keep and it was something that was bugging Davos.

"Tell me Ser Davos, do you know where the Florent guards were during the attack?" Stannis instead asked in return.

"I heard that Ser Axell recalled them into the castle to protect Lady Selyse and Shireen."

"For all the good it did." Stannis muttered. "Euron's knowledge of the layout of Dragonstone was perfect, he knew the exact positions of the guards and which parts of the castle were the least defended. As well as where Shireen and Selyse were within the castle." Davos felt like his blood had turned to ice when he realised what Stannis meant.

"You think someone helped him." _Someone that was a Florent,_ was left unsaid.

"I know it." Stannis answered as the two of them continued on their way to the castle.

 **End of chapter 6. Please Review.**

 **Yes I know the Weeper is a wildling and not a magnar on Skagos but I wanted a sadistic and bloodthirsty character and he just fit the bill**

 **In case anyone's curious I've decided to list the kingdoms of Westeros in terms of wealth (At least how I rank them), showing where the North used to be and where it is now. Though I must say it was hard to rank the wealth of Dorne, Riverlands and Crownlands and deciding which region was the wealthiest.**

 **After Robert's rebellion.**

 **1) The Westerlands**

 **2) The Reach.**

 **3) Dorne.**

 **4) The Riverlands.**

 **5) The Crownlands.**

 **6) The Stormlands.**

 **7) The Vale of Arryn.**

 **8) The North.**

 **9) The Iron Islands.**

 **Now (2 years before season 1)**

 **1) The Westerlands.**

 **2) The Reach.**

 **3) Dorne.**

 **4) The Riverlands.**

 **5) The Crowlands.**

 **6) The North.**

 **7) The Stormlands.**

 **8) The Vale of Arryn.**

 **9) The Iron Islands.**


End file.
